1

THE RESPONSIVE COSMOS: AN ENQUIRY INTO

THE THEORETICAL FOUNDATION OF ASTROLOGY

BY

JAMES BROCKBANK

Submitted for a PhD in Theology and

Religious Studies

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Abstract, p5.

Introduction, p6.

Chapter One: Astrologers and the Empirical, p21.

Chapter Two: Different responses to the lack of

empirical evidence, p57.

Chapter Three: The Responsive Cosmos, p75.

Chapter Four: Astrological Methodology, p105.

Chapter Five: Divinatory astrology and the scientific

researchers, 138.

Chapter Six: Quality of the astrological information,

p195.

Chapter Seven: What astrology aims at or the truth of

astrology, p201.

Chapter Eight: Bricolage and language games, p224.

Chapter Nine: Astrology as a new science, p233.

Chapter Ten: Elwell‟s correspondences, p239.

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Chapter Eleven: Archetypal astrology, p256.

Chapter Twelve: Neo-Platonic divinatory astrology,

p277.

Chapter Thirteen: Neo-Platonic astrology, p301.

Chapter Fourteen: Problems solved Part One, p318.

Chapter Fifteen: Problems solved Part Two – Criteria,

p333.

Chapter Sixteen: Problems solved Part Three –

Astrological knowledge, p358.

Chapter Seventeen: Problems solved Part Four – The

purchase on an astrological enquiry, p368.

Conclusion, p381.

Appendix, p386.

Bibliography, p387.

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Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my supervisor Patrick Curry for

his support during the many years this thesis has been

in preparation. The thesis presents a minority view

so his encouragement has been appreciated. I would

also like to thank Peter Moore for reading the first

draft of this thesis and providing valuable comments

and Louise Ronane who spent many hours in a hot south

of France making editorial suggestions.

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Abstract

This thesis is concerned with what astrology is.

It rejects the view that astrology should be

considered as an empirical science solely concerned

with making predictions about the future. Instead,

it argues that astrology cannot be a science and

should be seen as a form of divination; that the

astrological process requires the involvement of a

non-human agency; and that the aim of the

astrological enquiry is not primarily to obtain

information about the future but to obtain guidance

from this alternative realm.

The thesis argues that all the existing theories of

astrology must assume the involvement of a non-human

agency explicitly or implicitly, if they are to

account for current astrological practice. This,

however, is all that needs to be assumed. Further,

it argues that if astrology is viewed in this manner

many of the theoretical problems it is thought to

have are solved.

It is argued that one of the many advantages of

moving astrology from the realm of science to that

of divination is that it will allow scholars, and

others interested, to study astrology for what it is

and not for what some have erroneously claimed it to

be.

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The responsive cosmos: an inquiry into the

theoretical foundations of astrology

Introduction

Over the last forty years a large number of empirical

tests have been conducted on astrology in an attempt

to find empirical support for astrological techniques

and procedures. Generally, astrologers have supported

this enterprise because the experience of their own

practice has led many of them to believe that there is

a correlation between the position of the planets and

events on Earth which an empirical approach should be

able to find. However, none of these empirical tests

has succeeded in finding a correlation which underlies

any part of existing astrological practice, nor a

correlation which would be of practical use to

astrologers in their work. This has resulted in many

astrologers becoming confused about what does underpin

their practice and allowed many non-astrologers to

dismiss the whole subject.

However, at the same time, in that practice,

astrologers continue to experience that astrology

“works”. That astrologers experience astrology

“working” is not in dispute; what is in dispute is

what is meant by astrology “working” and how to

account for the experience of it “working”. As Arthur

Mather, who does not accept the efficacy of astrology,

and forms part of the group we will come to call the

scientific researchers, has put it, “The experiences

are real enough; what is in dispute is how they are

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best explained” (2008: 56). The scientific

researchers argue that astrology should be an

empirically based subject and have been involved in

many of the failed empirical tests which suggest that

it has no empirical support. They account for

astrological experiences through the hypothesis of

human judgment errors. It is their argument that

there are many errors which humans fall into when they

are making judgments which explain why astrologers may

think or believe that they are having an astrological

experience when they are not. Mather says that until

astrologers “face this point, fruitful debate seems

unlikely” (ibid).

It is the argument of this thesis that this

approach is wrong; that the empirical approach to

astrology misunderstands it and that the hypothesis of

human judgment errors is fundamentally flawed.

Instead, this thesis proposes an alternative model:

that the practice of astrology relies on the

involvement of a responsive cosmos. What is meant by

this is that a non-human agency brings together

astrological chart and context in a way which allows

the astrologer, using the rules and traditions of

astrology, to provide pertinent guidance on the matter

being considered. It will be argued that the

hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos provides a better

account of astrological experiences than the

hypothesis of human judgment errors. In addition, the

assumption of the Responsive Cosmos has two further

advantages, at least if one is interested in

accounting for extant astrological practice. First,

with the exception of its antithesis, the empirical

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model, it is an assumption which all the important

models of astrological practice rely on, explicitly or

implicitly. And second, it can account for the

apparent inconsistencies and contradictions of extant

astrological practice.

This thesis will first, in chapter one, provide an

outline of the empirical approach and the attachment

astrologers have to it. It will then explain why it

is both fundamentally flawed and a methodological

error.

In chapter two it will briefly introduce some of

the models proposed by astrologers in response to the

lack of empirical evidence found for astrology and

place them in their historical context.

In chapter three it will detail what is meant by

the Responsive Cosmos, what it entails and why it is a

necessary assumption which all practising astrologers

must hold implicitly or explicitly. It will also

explain why it is a useful term for scholars and all

those interested in divination in general.

In chapter four it will outline astrological

methodology: a methodology which does not rely on

empirical science.

In chapter five it will consider the view of the

scientific researchers, that astrology should be

treated as a science, and compare the hypothesis of

the Responsive Cosmos with the hypothesis of human

judgment errors. This will require a full discussion

of what is meant by astrology “working” and what is

meant by an astrological experience.

In chapter six and seven it will consider the

quality of the astrological enquiry and what, given

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that it is not an empirical enquiry justified through

a verification test, it is aiming to achieve.

In chapters eight through twelve it will consider

in detail the other main theories of astrological

practice: astrology as bricolage; astrology as a

language game; astrology as a new science; astrology

underpinned by hidden laws of correspondence;

astrology underpinned by archetypes; and astrology as

a form of divination which accesses higher neo-

Platonic laws. In all cases it will be argued that

the models require the assumption of the involvement

of a responsive cosmos and that they either fail to

elucidate astrological practice, have internal

inconsistencies, or assume more than this necessary

for the practice of astrology.

The majority of theories of astrology are neo-

Platonic in inspiration so chapter thirteen will

discuss neo-Platonic astrology in particular and how

an astrological theory which claims to be non-

divinatory can be derived from the same source as an

astrology which claims to be divinatory. It will also

outline the problems with neo-Platonic astrology.

Chapter fourteen will show how a number of

theoretical problems, which any attempt to account for

astrological practice must face, are resolved if the

hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos is accepted.

These problems - 'wrong' charts; reflexive charts;

reflexive clients; lack of repeatability - are only

problems if one considers astrology to be something

which it is not. However, the way the Responsive

Cosmos solves these problems creates further issues

which some may consider problematic: that astrology

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has no criteria for criticism; that astrology cannot

add to human knowledge; and that there appears to be

no reason to engage in astrology at all. These issues

will be dealt with in chapters fifteen through to

seventeen.

This thesis is philosophical in that what it

attempts to do is to examine existing astrological

models to determine whether they are consistent within

themselves and to clarify the assumptions on which

they are based. It is an attempt to sift through

existing approaches to astrology so that those

interested have a clearer understanding of what sort

of world astrological practice assumes. At least two

matters will become clear: first, that astrology is

not and cannot be a scientific endeavour; and second,

what astrologers (if they are to be coherent)

necessarily must assume about the world. The first is

important because it allows astrology to be studied in

an appropriate manner and opens up the possibility of

serious scholarly study. The second is a contribution

to this body of work because at least one of the more

recent scholarly studies is more concerned about what

participants believed about their practice than in its

efficacy:

Whatever our ancient sources may claim about

the greater powers that enabled it to work –

gods, demons, the cosmos itself – divination

is an utterly human art, behind which one can

glimpse not only the rules that participants

have developed for its engagement, but also

the rules by which participants assume (or

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hope) that the world works (Johnston 2005:

10).

Thus, although the view taken in this thesis is

that the many cases of astrology “working” are

examples of the efficacy of astrology, one does

not need to accept the efficacy of astrology to

appreciate the importance of points one and two

above for any serious discussion of astrology as a

practice.

The methodology used in this thesis is broadly

what Stephen Toulmin calls humanistic. For Toulmin,

during the seventeenth century four "humanist insights

were lost": there was a move from oral arguments to

written arguments; there was a move from the

particular to the universal; there was a move from the

local to the general; and a move from the timely to

the timeless (1990: 30-35). These were lost,

according to Toulmin, when philosophers and other

scholars followed Descartes in a search for certainty,

and have only begun to resurface in academic

discussion during the twentieth century in the work of

Dewey, Wittgenstein and others.

The reason for using this methodology is clear.

The thesis argues that a scientific approach cannot

elucidate extant astrological practice and that

astrological practice is concerned with the individual

lives of humans. It is, therefore, important to use a

methodology which incorporates these insights. Why

this is necessary becomes clear if we consider these

insights in more detail. By a move from oral

arguments to written arguments Toulmin is concerned by

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a move from rhetoric to formal logic. Before

Descartes, how an argument was received by its

intended audience was considered important whereas

after Descartes arguments were expected to consist of

"written chains of statements whose validity rested on

their internal relations" (ibid: 31). According to

Toulmin this has had the following result: "The

research programme of modern philosophy thus set aside

all questions about argumentation - among particular

people in specific situations, dealing with concrete

cases, where varied things were at stake - in favour

of proofs that could be set down in writing, and

judged as written" (ibid: 31).

A research programme along these lines is

inappropriate for a study of astrology. In any

astrological configuration there will be many factors

which will contradict each other and for which, as we

shall see, there can be no one rule for determining

what judgment to make. Astrologers often use their

clients to help them decide between different possible

outcomes and, as we shall show, this dialogue is an

integral part of astrological methodology. If one

excludes this dialogue, in which the participants

discuss the specific situation in which they are

involved, as a legitimate part of the astrological

process, which is implied by a research programme in

which people in specific situations are ignored, then,

not only is one failing to understand the methodology

of astrology, one will inevitably argue that

astrological practice should be reformed so that

astrological judgments follow a methodology which will

produce a judgment determined only by the position of

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the planets. This, however, as we shall see, cannot

be done.

The second issue for Toulmin is the change of

emphasis from the particular to the general. Here he

is concerned with an attempt to create an abstract

theory which will deal with all cases at the expense

of the individual case and the contingent

circumstances surrounding that case. The problem with

this approach will become apparent in our discussion

of what is meant by astrology “working” in chapter

five. Currently, within astrological literature, two

different ways of understanding what one means by

astrology “working” sit side by side often without

astrologers being aware of the difference. One

defines astrology “working” with reference to the

individual astrological experience during an

astrological consultation, whereas the other defines

it with reference to the existence of an astrological

'effect', as shown by a natural law. The former is

concerned with the individual case, and does not rely

on any general law, while the latter is concerned with

a general law and an individual case becomes

astrological if it conforms to it. The problem, as we

will see, is that the latter approach excludes most

extant astrological practice. It defines astrology out

of existence and consequently fails to elucidate

current astrological practice.

Toulmin's third lost insight is the move from the

local to the general. According to Toulmin the "16th-

century humanists found sources of material in

ethnography, geography, and history" which have been

excluded by "modern philosophers" as "irrelevant to

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truly 'philosophical' inquiry" (ibid: 33). There have

been many attempts throughout astrological history to

reform astrology so that it conforms to an abstract

theory which might succeed in removing some of the

apparent contradictions of astrological practice.

This thesis is not interested in achieving that aim,

which would result in an astrological different to

what is actually practised, but in showing how one can

account for the varied nature of existing astrological

practice by assuming the involvement of the Responsive

Cosmos. To do this ethnographic factors will be taken

into account, or at least examples drawn from

astrological practice, although the methodology used

remains philosophical in the broader sense meant by

Toulmin.

The final factor that Toulmin considers is the

move from the timely to the timeless. For the 16th

century humanists the time of a decision was of the

essence because it was being made to take into account

the circumstances that prevailed at that particular

time and not at another time, or no time at all and

consequently could only be fully understood by taking

those circumstances into consideration. In contrast,

"From Descartes' time on, attention was focused on

timeless principles that hold good at all times

equally..." (ibid: 34). It will become clear during

our discussion that as far as astrology is concerned

these timeless principles holding good for all times

do not exist because no one astrological configuration

- relating the position of the planets at a particular

time to a particular situation - will ever be the same

as another. If one attempts to put these different

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configurations into one timeless principle something

will be lost. What will be lost are the contingent

circumstances surrounding the astrology enquiry.

However, astrology is concerned with the contingent -

in relating a unique astrological chart to a unique

set of circumstances – so by removing the contingent

circumstances one is studying something other than

astrology as currently practised.

We have chosen a methodological approach which is

flexible enough to include these factors because the

alternative, as we shall see, is to exclude large

parts of extant astrological practice. The empirical

approach ignores all four factors and fails to account

for astrological practice, but even some of

astrological models ignore some of these humanist

factors. However, we do not use these factors as a

measuring rod: our aim remains to uncover the

assumptions on which these various astrological models

are based, to determine whether they are internally

consistent, and whether they are able to account for

extant astrological practice. If a model is unable to

account for extant astrological practice then it has

to provide the criteria to determine which parts of

that practice should be excluded and provide

compelling reasons why others should accept the

proposed criteria. It will be shown that none of the

existing models of astrology is able to do this. In

contrast, the model argued for in this thesis – that

astrological practice requires the involvement of a

non-human agency in the astrological process – is able

to account for extant astrological practice. It also

provides a new hypothesis to account for the

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experience astrologers have of astrology “working”; a

hypothesis which is a considerable improvement of the

existing hypothesis that such experiences can be

accounted for by human judgment errors.

This humanistic approach - essentially a

willingness to consider both the particular and the

context of the situation surrounding it and not to

sacrifice either for the sake of a general theory - is

often associated with the later Wittgenstein but many

other scholars from many other disciplines have

thought along these lines. One of those is Michael

Oakeshott whose work is important for this thesis.

For Oakeshott each discipline should be treated on its

own terms, for which he uses the metaphor of a human

conversation in which "Each voice is the reflection of

a human activity, begun without premonition of where

it would lead, but acquiring for itself in the course

of engagement a specific character and a manner of

speaking of its own" (1991: 491). In this thesis we

accept this position: if one wants to understand

astrology one must consider it within its own terms

and not use the criteria of another subject -

particularly science - as a measuring tool. In

addition, in order to understand, to use Oakeshott's

metaphor, what astrology is trying to say, we need to

accept that it has a particular "manner of speaking".

If we are to do that it will be necessary to

understand astrological methodology.

For Toulmin, as mentioned, the four humanistic

insights were lost because from the time of Descartes

philosophers begun a search for certainty. In the

case of science arguably the apogee of this search for

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certainty was the Vienna Circle and their positivist

approach which attempted to reduce science to

observable laws and the logical relations between

those laws. This was considered certain knowledge and

other scholars, also wanting to show that their own

disciplines were concerned with certain knowledge,

took on board the positivist arguments and attempted

to remove subjective and contingent elements from

their own analysis; in this way they could attempt to

build an entirely objective and certain body of

knowledge. That this is possible, even in science, is

now doubted by most scholars. One argument, usually

attributed to Wittgenstein (see Feyerabend 1981: 129)

is that science cannot be understood as the logical

relation between "simple slogans" expressing "simple

laws" (Feyerabend‟s terms) because the simple slogans

only receive their meaning through the practice of

science. If they receive their meaning through the

practice of science they cannot be entirely objective.

This is an argument which we accept.

However, whether science consists of an objective

body of knowledge is not the direct concern of this

thesis. This thesis argues that astrology is not a

science and assumes that there is no empirical

evidence which supports extant astrological practice

and that none is likely to be found - a reasonable

assumption given the lack of evidence found after

forty years of empirical test-work - so whether or not

this body of evidence, if it existed, could be shown

to rest on uncertain principles is of secondary

interest.

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However, the Wittgenstein-type argument against

certainty is of interest. It is part of a tradition

which doubts the existence of absolute principles or

values which apart from Wittgenstein, Toulmin and

Oakeshott includes Isaiah Berlin, Mary Midgely and

Barabara Herrnstein Smith all referred to in this

thesis. We will see that three of the more important

astrological models assume an ideal order which lies

outside astrology. These ideal orders - archetypes,

correspondences, and neo-Platonic Principles - are

used either in place of empirical evidence, as a

criterion to evaluate astrological judgments, or to

provide spiritual significance. The Wittgensteinian

argument, however, shows that they must be assumed

orders because these orders obtain their meaning

through the practice of astrology, through the active

participation and interpretation of astrologers and,

therefore, cannot be separate to that practice. Many

other scholars have subscribed to this line of

thinking: Fenton Hort, writing long before

Wittgenstein's later writings, makes the point well

when he says, "No line is possible between what has

come to men, and their interpretation of what has come

to them" (1908: 175). These assumed orders, as we

shall show, are neither necessary nor sufficient to

elucidate astrological practice.

This thesis is concerned with the assumptions

which underlie various astrological models. It

therefore relies on what astrologers have written.

For the view that astrology should be considered as an

empirical subject it relies on the work of Geoffrey

Dean and others who have been heavily involved in

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astrological research. For the models of astrology,

for reasons which will be explained in chapter two, it

largely relies on the work of Richard Tarnas (2006),

Bernadette Brady (2006), Mike Harding (2004), Denis

Elwell (1999), and Geoffrey Cornelius (2003). It also

relies on the work of Patrick Curry as his book

Astrology, Science and Culture (2004), written with

Roy Willis, is an investigation into many of the

problems discussed in this thesis. It addition it

relies on Garry Phillipson‟s Astrology in the Year

Zero (2000) and Allison Bird's Astrology: An

ethnography (2006). The former is a survey of the

views of both astrologers and the scientific

researchers on the practice of astrology, while the

latter is an ethnographic study of astrologers in

education. Both provide evidence of what astrologers

think about their subject as well as examples of

astrology “working” in practice. Many other works are

referred to but it is, perhaps, worth noting Antony

Thorley‟s “Perception of divination in the

Astrological consultation” (2006/7) because that

article is specifically concerned with astrology as

divination and the central argument of this thesis is

that astrology is best understood as form of

divination.

It is, perhaps, already clear that the practice of

astrology depicted in this thesis is different to the

type of practice implied by many definitions of

astrology. For example, Dean defines astrology as

“the study of correlations between living organisms

(especially man) and extraterrestrial phenomena”

(1977: 1). It will become clear that an astrology

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which assumes a responsive cosmos does not require

that there is a correlation between the movements of

the planets with lives on earth. It is likely that

Dean‟s definition provides the generally accepted

understanding of astrology but if it meant to define

what astrologers actually do then it presupposes that

there is a correlation between the movement of the

planets and events on earth. If that particular

correlation does not exist or cannot be shown – and so

far it has not been shown – then what astrologers are

actually doing when they practice astrology must be

something quite different.

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Chapter One: Astrologers and the empirical

Testing astrology

It is a fairly common occurrence among those who

become interested in astrology that when they first

look at their own chart, or the charts of friends,

that the charts appear to “work”, and that this

working has a persuasive charm. This has been the

case even for those who later became sceptical about

the efficacy of astrology: ”We started much in the

same way as any astrologer starts – we calculated

charts, saw that they seemed to work, and were hooked”

(Phillipson 2000: 125).

From being “hooked” the next step for many

astrologers is to conduct their own personal

research.1 However, rarely does this research conform

to scientific standards. Often, since it is

practising astrologers who are conducting the

research, it is assumed in advance that the practice

of astrology “works” and the aim is to determine

whether an individual technique “works”. That said, a

smaller number of astrologers do understand the

requirements of conducting astrological experiments in

accordance with the standards of scientific

experiments. One who has been particularly prominent

in this area is Dean, although he now describes

himself as a researcher rather than an astrologer, and

he has written many articles concerning astrological

1 There are many examples of this. There are, for example, several internet sites which are

engaged in discussing astrologers‟ own research into the signification and meaning of asteroids.

22

research, several with a group of fellow researchers

under the collective title of Dean et al.2 This group

no longer accepts the efficacy of astrology and, since

they call themselves researchers and are fully

committed to the scientific methodology of empirical

experiments when examining astrology, will be referred

to as scientific researchers or Dean et al. Over the

last forty years they have been active in the field of

astrological research and have reached the conclusion

that it is unlikely that any substantial empirical

evidence supporting astrological practice will be

found and that astrology should be seen as form of

satisfaction (a view which will be discussed in

chapter five). This conclusion is one that

astrologers have to take seriously because, unlike

many lay critics of astrology, this group has a

thorough understanding of astrological techniques (if

not astrological history).

However, there are many astrologers who subscribe

to the scientific method when examining astrology who

would not subscribe to the conclusions reached by Dean

et al. These astrologers, who believe that astrology

has a place either within the existing scientific

paradigm, or, perhaps, within a new scientific

paradigm yet to be developed, argue that more

sophisticated methods are required for testing

astrology,3 or even that it is just a matter of time,

before empirical evidence for astrology is found.

They point out that failed tests do not disprove

astrology (see Harris 2009: 3) and that the Gauquelin

2 The others are Arthur Mather, Rudolf Smit, Ivan Kelly and Suitbert Ertel.

3 It is not always clear what these methods might be.

23

results show that there is a correlation between the

position of some of the planets and effects on Earth

which cannot easily be dismissed (see Douglas 2009:

61).

It is the argument of this thesis that the

scientific methodology of empirical experiments is an

inappropriate methodology with which to examine

astrology. The arguments made apply to both the

scientific researchers and to all other astrologers

who argue that empirical experiments should be used to

evaluate astrology. However, the criticism made of

the conclusion reached by the scientific researchers

that astrology is best understood as satisfaction

applies only to them.

The scientific researchers are clear about why

they think scientific research is necessary: “The

astrological literature is filled largely with

demonstrations of belief. What it is not filled with

are demonstrations of truth. The result is chaos. If

truth is to replace belief, research is essential”

(Dean 1977: 3). In this they are often supported by

other astrologers: “Astrology has been flooded with

wave after wave of plausible, astrologically sensible,

but untested ideas. It is time to enter into a

culling period to discern which ideas are more

reliable than others” (McDonough 2002).

For the scientific researchers the kinds of

statements that one might find in an astrological

textbook – such as “Leos are generous” – are

statements of belief rather than truth because no

empirical evidence has been found to support them.

What is required is empirical research conducted under

24

accepted scientific norms. It is not completely clear

how these scientific researchers would define accepted

scientific norms, and they are not always precise

about what is entailed in establishing those

conditions.4 However, according to H J Eysenck (1982:

76-83), astrological research has tended to show ten

major weaknesses, so we can assume that these are ten

areas which should be adhered to. They are:

replication of tests; taking into consideration the

statistical probability that a particular astrological

configuration will occur; using control groups; “the

base line rule” – making sure the surrounding features

do not make a statistical correlation more likely;

considering alternative theories; using the right

method of study; testing a testable theory; looking

out for unexpected effects; eliminating artefacts; and

finally being precise in interpreting results. By

adhering to these ten principles one would exclude

astrologers‟ own personal experience of chart

analysis, unless those experiences could be repeated

under controlled conditions, because, as Peter

Roberts, who has also been involved in astrological

research, tells us, “The nature of scientific

observations is essentially public. Any observation

must be repeatable by anyone and anywhere” (Roberts

2006: 51).

We can see in Eysenck's strictures an attempt to

remove the subjective elements from astrological

tests. Eysenck's concern is not with how astrologers

advise their clients, or what happens during an

4 When Dean et al. are asked to define scientific research in Astrology in the Year Zero the

answer they give, on p127, is unspecific.

25

astrological consultation, but with whether or not

there are natural laws which underpin astrological

techniques. Following these strictures would mean,

for example, that if a survey found a correlation

between a propensity to have driving accidents and

those born with a particular sun sign, say Aries,

that, before any conclusion could be drawn, it would

be necessary to take into consideration the

distribution of births throughout all the signs of the

zodiac because if more people were born with Sun in

Aries one would expect them to be involved in more

driving accidents. Similarly, if astrologers found

that there was a correlation between Saturn-Mars

conjunctions and the start of wars, before any

scientific conclusion could be drawn it would be

necessary to examine wars which were initiated when

there was no Saturn-Mars conjunction, and to take into

account those Saturn-Mars conjunctions which coincided

with no wars. It could be that, when all three

variations were examined, wars were no more likely to

take place when Saturn was conjunct Mars than at any

other time.

The argument of the scientific researchers, that

empirical tests are the criteria that should be used

to determine which claims to take seriously and which

claims to reject, has created a significant problem

for astrologers and astrology because, so far,

insufficient empirical evidence has been found to

support any astrological techniques or statements, so

the logical conclusion is that all astrological

statements are statements of belief rather than truth,

and should be rejected. To take one large study as an

26

example of how a quest for empirical evidence failed:

Nona Press led a study of suicides in New York City

over a five-year period, in which a hundred thousand

different possible astrological signatures for suicide

were examined and no correlation was found (see

Cornelius 2003: 50-52).

In addition to tests on astrological techniques

and significations, empirical tests have been carried

out on the ability of astrologers to read horoscopes

blind under controlled conditions. For the scientific

researcher this entails conducting tests with a)

astrologer and client‟s horoscope; b) astrologer and

control horoscope; c) control person and client‟s

horoscope; d) control person and control horoscope

(Dean et al 1998/99: 49). They argue that one cannot

conclude that astrology “works” unless one can show

that any astrological effect found in test a) is not

repeated in the other three tests. Dean argues, “it

is not enough that a new technique „works‟. It must

be shown to work objectively or at least to work

better than existing techniques” (1977: 35). Many of

these tests have been conducted in an unsatisfactory

manner (for example, see Cornelius 1985/6 and Vidmar

2008)5 and the results have been mixed,

6 but generally

astrologers have fared badly in providing results

which satisfy the scientific researcher and, as

already mentioned, for the purposes of this thesis it

will be assumed that they have failed to provide

5Cornelius and Vidmar are both discussing the Carlson (1985) “Double Blind Test of Astrology”

which has been used as an example of the “disproof” of astrology, but which has many

methodological problems. 6 Vernon Clark did find positive results in various trials, conducted by post, between 1959 and

1961, but the follow-up tests did not repeat his findings.

27

empirical evidence for astrological techniques or

prognostications.

This then is the problem posed by the scientific

researcher: astrology appears to “work” when

astrologers practise, but “working” has not been

repeated under controlled conditions; astrological

literature makes many claims for astrological

techniques but no empirical evidence has been found to

support any of them; these techniques are often

contradictory but without empirical evidence one has

no methodology to determine which techniques are

correct.7

A new paradigm for astrological research

The assumption that no empirical tests will be found

to support current astrological practice might appear

a reasonable one to make given that after forty years

of testing no substantial empirical evidence has been

found. However, instead of admitting defeat and

abandoning research into astrology it is often

suggested that what is required is a new approach to

astrological research. Robert Schmidt (2007), in a

paper given to the National Council for Geocosmic

Research8(NCGR) research conference, has pointed out

that currently there is a debate within research

circles between “frequentists” and “Bayesian”

7 One would, of course, first have to define what one means by a correct technique. Those who

argue that astrology is an empirical practice may believe that a correct technique is one which

can be shown through empirical tests to produce more accurate predictions. It will become

clear that this is not my view. 8 An astrological society based in America.

28

statisticians.9 He has argued that rather than

conducting controlled experiments under blind

conditions, which test an astrologer‟s ability to

match chart to client, it would be more appropriate to

allow prior knowledge to be taken into consideration –

as might be allowed with a Bayesian approach to

statistics - and concentrate on an astrologer‟s

ability to make prognostications for a single chart.

Elsewhere, Roberts has suggested “that conventional

statistical significance tests are inappropriate for

research in astrology and that Bayesian methods are

better” (2002: 49). In a different context Douglas

argues that astrologers should consider the new

epistemology developed in anthropology and

neuroscience. This new epistemology, he believes, is

more appropriate for astrological research because

unlike Cartesian epistemology it does not assume a

separation of the observer and the observed (2007: 51-

52).

Essentially this argument reverts back to those

who have argued against the Vienna Circle's

"positivist" approach to science. Initially the

"positivist" approach was well received, perhaps

because, if empiricists could show that their theories

rested on observed results, it seemed to allow them to

claim objective knowledge. According to Feyerabend,

this claim to objective knowledge was made without

changing actual practice and the “positivist” approach

to science resulted in no procedural change.

Scientists continued to use the normal "ad hoc"

9 Schmidt quotes from a recent paper in The American Statistician, August 2006, Vol 60 (3), by

Roderick J. Little, called Calibrated Bayes: A Bayes/Frequentist Roadmap.

29

practical knowledge that Feyerabend argues had always

formed an important part of their practice while

accepting the theory of what, he calls, the "way of

the philosopher" (1981: 82). Soon, however, scholars

started to criticise this positivist philosophy of

science. Ludvik Fleck, with the The Problem of

Epistemology, (1986) and The General Development of a

Scientific Fact, (1979)10, Michael Polanyi with

Science, Faith and Society (1946), W.H. Watson, a

pupil of Wittgenstein, with Understanding Physics

Today, (1963), and Toulmin, another of Wittgestein‟s

pupils, with The Philosophy of Science (1953), all

provided alternative understandings of the way in

which scientific knowledge is developed. However, it

is generally agreed that it was Thomas Kuhn's The

Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1961), which

changed people's perceptions of the issues involved.

Kuhn argued that from time to time physicists have

reconstructed the foundations on which physics is

based, but that these reconstructions are not based on

"self evident" ideas or "formal" axioms. Instead the

reconstructions rely on "paradigms" which are

particular to a given age. If they are dependent on

paradigms of a given age then many different types of

historical and cultural matters will have to be taken

into consideration to understand them. This means

that the self-evident ideas and formal axioms which

form the foundation of objective knowledge are not

objective at all but reliant on a myriad of contingent

factors.

10

Originally published in German in 1933.

30

Many astrologers refer to these criticisms and

argue that the current age might produce a new

paradigm within which astrological research could be

conducted which would lead to results supporting

astrological procedures. One problem with this

argument is that it is never ending because if the

research produces no evidence supporting astrology

then astrologers can say that the wrong paradigm is

being used. The search for the 'correct' paradigm

only ends when the evidence supporting astrology is

found. However, the hope of finding this new paradigm

within which astrological research would flourish

might seem optimistic, even absurd, to anyone who

considers what astrological techniques consist of.

There are twelve houses,11 twelve signs,

12 a minimum of

seven planets13 and no limit to the number of other

points, real, constructed or hypothetical, that

astrologers might use in their practice.14 Each of

these have hundreds of different meanings, making

millions of combinations (see Dean 1977: 34-35). It is

inconceivable that all of these techniques, rules and

procedures could be grounded in the empirical.

Indeed, it is difficult to conceive how empirical

evidence could ever be thought to underlie the

11

Houses demarcate topics. There are several different house systems all of which divide the

360 degrees of the zodiac into twelve segments but in different proportions. 12

The twelve signs of the zodiac. 13

The seven planets used by most, if not all, astrologers are the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus,

Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. However, many astrologers also use the three outer planets which are

Uranus, Neptune and Pluto. 14

The real would include asteroids, while the constructed would include the lots (sometimes

called Arabic parts but called lots in this thesis) which are calculated from the position of the

planets in relation to each other or to the Ascendant, and the hypothetical are the planets of the

Hamburg school which are, as they are described, hypothetical.

31

techniques and rules used in extant astrological

practice (see Willis and Curry 2004: 90). Even if one

ignores the huge quantity of available astrological

techniques – according to Dean if one was to use all

the astrological techniques available each birth chart

would require over one thousand miles of computer

print-outs to cover all the possible astrological

configurations within it (see Dean 1977: 35) - the

task one is setting oneself is unrealistic. If 0.4%

of the population is interested in astrology, then one

would have to find a configuration, which could be

astrologically understood to describe an interest in

astrology, which occurs in 0.4% of birth charts and

matches up with the appropriate 0.4% of the

population. This synchronicity seems most unlikely.

The irrelevance of empirical evidence to astrological

practice

If only some astrological rules and techniques are

likely to be supported empirically then the purpose of

establishing empirical evidence could not be to

justify, or explain, existing astrological practice

but to reform astrology into an empirically based

practice. However, even if empirical evidence were to

be found, there is no good reason to think that

astrologers would start changing their astrological

practice. Michel Gauquelin (1928-1991), in the light

of his own empirical findings, proposed a new

astrology (1991) which used only five planets, no

houses, and no zodiac, but this new astrology was

largely ignored by astrologers. It is hardly

32

surprising that astrologers used to an array of

reference points to call upon found such a pared-down

astrology unappealing; but it is more surprising, to

some at any rate, that astrologers also ignored

Gauquelin‟s finding that, contrary to accepted

practice, a planet rising above the horizon in the

twelfth house was in a strong position15 because this

could have been incorporated into astrological

practice with relative ease.16

It may be that there is a natural astrology which

empirical tests will discover.17 The Gauquelin

results, which found that there strong evidence for a

weak correlation between certain planets rising at

birth and certain professions, would suggest that

there is a weak natural astrology; many planetary

significations that astrologers use have been taken

from myths and a natural element may underlie some of

those myths. However, given that the tests conducted

so far have failed to uncover any substantial

empirical evidence to support astrology it seems

probable that any natural astrology found in the

future will be weak, and most improbable that it will

15

A planet rising above the horizon would be in the twelfth house in the various house systems

that most astrologers will have used at the time that Gauquelin published his results. However,

the Hellenistic and several of the Arabic and early Medieval astrologers used a whole sign house

system. Under the whole sign house system a planet rising above the horizon can be in the first

or twelfth house depending on whether the planet is in the same sign as the Ascendant. 16

I remember being at a seminar given by British astrologer Charles Harvey in which he asked

whether those in the audience used the Gauquelin “zones” in their practice; he was surprised,

and I think a little disappointed, that no one had incorporated into their own practice the one

piece of evidence that astrologers could show to scientists as “proof” of the scientific reliability

of their subject. 17

Natural astrology would consist of the correlation of planetary cycles with phenomena on

earth which does not require the involvement of an astrologer; it can be contrasted with judicial

astrology in which a chart is calculated and a judgment made which requires the participation of

an astrologer. See Campion (1996) pp42-45 for a discussion.

33

underpin all the techniques and procedures currently

used in astrological practice.

This is a difficult matter for astrologers. No

one can deny that if one were to find that Uranus in a

certain position correlated with a particular

degenerative disease that this would be worth knowing.

Thus, astrologers, convinced that such correlations

exist, believe that such research is worthwhile.

However, astrologers rarely admit that even if such

positive results were found they would be unable to

explain the techniques used in extant practice, or

discuss what conclusions one could logically draw from

such positive results. For example, it is difficult

to imagine empirical evidence providing equal support

for both the sidereal and tropical zodiac.18 Common

sense would suggest that one zodiac would have more

empirical support than the other. However, if the

new-style experiments were found to support the

tropical zodiac, and not the sidereal zodiac, this

empirical evidence would have no necessary impact on

the Indian astrologers who use the sidereal zodiac

because their astrology would still be “working” in

exactly the same way as before. The lack of evidence

for the sidereal zodiac would not change what the

Indian astrologers are actually doing: if it “works”

before the empirical tests it will “work” after the

18

The tropical zodiac is used in Western astrology. With this zodiac the first point of Aries is

aligned with the vernal equinox and the signs of the zodiac given thirty-degree segments from

that point. The sidereal zodiac is used by Indian astrologers. The sidereal signs of the zodiac are

also given thirty-degree segments but the starting point is an estimate of where the constellation

of Aries is in the sky, currently about 21 degrees behind the vernal equinox, which places it in

the sign of Pisces in the tropical zodiac. This means that the sun sign of most people born in

England will go back one sign when they see an Indian astrologer. Thus the statement “All Leos

are generous” will refer to vastly different groups of people if calculated in accordance with the

two different zodiacs as many Western Leos become Eastern Cancerians.

34

empirical tests, whether those tests support the

technique or not. So what conclusion should the

sidereal astrologer draw? Should they abandon their

existing practice?

The problem, however, is more fundamental than a

failure of find empirical support. If empirical

support was found to support some astrological

techniques and procedures it is not clear what use it

would be. Current astrological practice is judicial

requiring a judgment from an astrologer. The

astrologer will look at a chart, consider the matter

at hand and make a judgment. This is a separate

process to the existence of natural astrological laws

and does not rely on them. For example, should a

researcher show that a prominent Jupiter correlates

with conception then that would be a natural law. It

would be a natural law which would conform to the

generally accepted astrological understanding of

Jupiter which is associated with pregnancy. However,

the existence of this natural law has no bearing on

judicial astrology - other than allowing the

astrologer, if he/she wishes, to include the natural

law in their decision making process - because

judicial astrology is concerned with the process of

making judgments.

In this, it is arguable that astrology is no

different to science. The German philosopher Hans

Vaihinger has argued that all subjects rely on what he

calls fictions, and that this does not prevent those

subjects coming up with valid information.19 Thus,

19

I have Allison Bird to thank for suggesting that I should consider Vaihinger‟s work.

35

from the unrealistic assumption that everyone pursues

their own self-interest, Adam Smith “reduced the play

of interests, the marketing of Supply and Demand, to

rules which even yet have not lost their importance”

(Vaihinger 1935: 185). Similarly, in physics,

molecules “for the sake of simplicity are treated as

spherical” and “a far simpler behaviour is assumed

than that which actually occurs”. This is necessary,

because, as Vaihinger says:

If theoretical mechanics and physics are to

proceed deductively at all, any other

treatment of reality is impossible. For here

the empirical phenomena are so complicated

that by excluding subsidiary factors which

are, however, always at work – abstract

relationships are made the basis of the

method, and the behaviour of phenomena is then

treated as if it were dependent only upon

these abstract factors and the others did not

come into consideration at all (ibid: 189).

Thus, Vaihinger believes that all practices (including

science) rely on as if fictions. For Vaihinger, the

criterion for determining the utility of these

fictions lay in their practical value: “Expediency

not only determines the acceptance or rejection of a

particular fiction but also its selection among

others” (ibid: 90).

To argue that judicial astrology – making an

astrological judgment - requires natural astrological

laws supported by empirical evidence is to make a

36

category error. Many scholars from a variety of

different fields have made a similar point for their

own disciplines. These scholars are often concerned

that the methodology of science is being imposed on

their own subject, even though that subject has its

own methodology. As Oakeshott puts it, within the

conversation of mankind, "on many occasions all that

there is to be heard is the eristic tones of the voice

of science" (1991: 493). Oakeshott's particular field

of interest was politics and the structure of

political systems within society. Thus, in his

discussion of the “science of society”, he says:

It has little to do with human conduct and

nothing at all to do with the performances of

assignable agents. Whatever an environmental

pressure, a behaviour-style, or the

distribution of gas-cookers may be said to be

correlated with or to cause (a rise in the

suicide rate? a fall in the use of

detergents?) these are not terms in which the

choice of an agent to do or to say this rather

than that in response to a contingent

situation and in an adventure to procure an

imagined and wished-for satisfaction may be

understood (1975: 97).

It is a category mistake to think that the choice

of an agent can be understood in terms of empirical

data. This is not to say that empirical data might

not be taken into consideration when the choice is

made, only that the choice itself will depend on a

37

myriad of contingent circumstances. As Mary Midgley

puts it in Science and Poetry, (2001), her

philosophical investigation of science which, among

other things, is concerned with this problem: "The

laws of a particular science only operate within it,

not between it and its conceptual neighbours, where

wider structural considerations have to be used,"

(2001: 118).

In the case of the humanities the other

structural considerations will include the four lost

insights of Toulmin. These, as already mentioned,

have, according to Toulmin, been brought back into

academic discussion during the second half of the

twentieth century (1990: 186-192). For the following

reasons any analysis of astrology which follows the

empirical approach will exclude them: first, dialogue

will be excluded because one will be following

empirical rules which have been created without

reference to the dialogue between astrologer and

client; second, the particular will be excluded

because one will be creating general rules which have

universal application and may ignore the particular;

third, ethnographic considerations will be excluded

because what matters is not the individual case

history but the general rule; and last, time is

excluded because the rules used should apply to all

cases at all times.

Each discipline must develop its own methodology

and it is through an understanding of that methodology

that we will be able to see the factors which underpin

the discipline. In chapter four we will provide a

detailed characterisation of astrological methodology

38

and empirical data will form no part of it. For the

moment it will be sufficient to point out that the

empirical approach, by itself, cannot provide a

methodology for making astrological judgments.

Further problems with empirical tests and astrological

enquiries

This problem – that empirical evidence can provide

only part of what is required to make an astrological

judgment – becomes clearer when one considers in more

detail the sort of questions that astrologers do

attempt to answer. It might be that one wants to know

the likelihood of an earthquake taking place somewhere

in the world at a certain time. If this is what one

wants to know, empirical test-work may be the

appropriate methodology. This, however, would not be

judicial astrology but natural astrology: whether or

not there a natural law indicating that earthquakes

are likely to take place during certain planetary

configurations. However, as current astrology is

judicial most astrological inquiries are not like

that. Most astrological inquiries involve free agents

subject to contingent circumstances. They want to

know what to do, what will be the best course of

action, so to answer in terms of probabilities – which

is all empirical test-work can provide – does not

provide the advice which is sought but a different

sort of answer.

An astrological enquiry usually concerns an agent

who is directly involved in the matter being

considered and in the eventual outcome. Thus, if my

39

friend asks about a job offer it is by no means clear

what relevance a supposed correlation between an

astrological configuration and other people in similar

situations – which is what empirical evidence will

show - will have on his decision whether or not to

accept that job, which pertains only to him. Further,

it will be necessary for the empirical approach to

determine in advance which the most advantageous

course of action is. This task becomes unrealistic

when one considers the different possible outcomes:

the job one is offered may be dull and financially

unrewarding but one has the unexpected benefit of

meeting one's spouse, however, unfortunately this is

the spouse one ends up murdering. The contingent

possibilities are endless especially when one

remembers that one will never know what would have

happened if one did not take the job (see Willis and

Curry: 101).

An empirical approach can do no more than make a

probable estimate based on the available empirical

data. However, one can only make that calculation of

probabilities by putting a valuation on the many

different possible outcomes, but this valuation may be

completely different to the valuation that would be

made by the person whose life is being considered.

This problem of calculation is similar to the problem

of calculating happiness for the ethical theory of

utilitarianism. The utilitarian must make a valuation

of different types of happiness so that they can be

compared but one then has to apply that valuation to

people who might value them differently (see Williams

1973 for some of the issues). This might not matter

40

if a state is trying to make policy with finite

resources but it certainly matters in an individual

consultation.

Even questions that involve a simple “yes” or

”no” are not necessarily suited to the empirical

approach. If a new drug has a forty per cent

probability of curing lung cancer it is a useful drug,

but if one has a forty percent chance of answering “Is

there a house for me in the Lake District”20

correctly, under laboratory conditions, that is worse

than useless, because flipping a coin would provide a

fifty per cent chance. One is forced to conclude

either that the astrology is useless or that the

astrological methodology being used is wrong.

This directly leads to another problem with the

empirical approach. Even if one could show that there

was a statistical probability of certain things

correlating with certain astrological configurations,

it would have to have an extremely high level of

accuracy to be of any use in an astrological

interpretation. In his attempt to establish that

astrology was empirically based Gauquelin found that

there was a correlation between Mars rising in a birth

chart and that person‟s eminence in sports. This is

known as the “Mars Effect” and his results are

considered, by many people, to be statistically

significant. Indeed, those who would like to dismiss

them have failed to provide an adequate alternative

hypothesis. The latest attempt has been Dean‟s

argument that they can be explained through parents

20

This is the question asked in our example chart which will be delineated in chapter four.

41

tampering with their child‟s birth time but this has

been thoroughly discredited by Suitbert Ertel.21

For a practising astrologer, though, the

probability of Mars rising equating with sporting

eminence for a client, although higher than chance, is

so low that there is no reason to take it into

account. For it to be worth taking into account, it

would have to be probable that Mars rising would lead

to eminence of sport; and this is something which is

extremely unlikely given that a) eminence in sport is

rare and b) that so many other factors are at play.

And, even were it to be probable, it would be a

mistake to present it in a categorical manner in the

consultation because what matters to a client is the

client; not that there is an eighty per cent chance

that this astrological configuration will correlate

with eminence in sports but whether he/she will be

eminent. One needs a methodology which will enable

one to be more specific.

Empirical tests and astrological methodology

Despite these problems with the empirical approach,

the scientific researchers argue that the scientific

methodology of empirical experiments is the

appropriate methodology for refining and improving

astrological practice. Thus they tell us:

“Scientific research in astrology has the same aim as

scientific research in general – to improve what we

21

Dean‟s original paper was published in Vol.13, issues 1 and 2, of Astrologie in Onderzoek

(2000) but also in English under the title “Astrology under scrutiny”, while Ertel‟s rebuttal can

be found in five separate articles in Correlation Vol. 19(2), 20(1), 20(2), 21(1) and 21(2).

42

know and improve what we do” (Phillipson 2000: 127).

Their proposal, which might seem eminently reasonable,

is accepted by many astrologers. This would mean that

if one took an astrological textbook which listed a

series of possible meanings for “Mars in Cancer in the

twelfth house”, one would determine which meaning to

use through empirical test-work. Ideally, one of the

meanings would have been shown through empirical test-

work to be accurate, or to have a higher probability

of being accurate than the others, and that meaning

would be used. In an ideal world, astrology would

build on past empirical test-work and a series of

demonstrably accurate meanings could be created which

astrologers could use in their practice. Thus, over

the years astrology would be refined and improved with

the ultimate aim of developing an astrology which was

reliably accurate.

However, as Oakeshott says of any practice “it is

only in fantasy that a practice appears as a

composition of rules claiming obedience which to learn

is to acquire a familiarity with injunctive

propositions and to understand is to know one‟s way

about a rule-book” (1975: 91). Whatever certain

astrologers may claim, there is nothing in the history

of astrology to suggest that astrological techniques

have ever been empirically based (in the sense that

one concept has been dropped in favour of another

concept because it has more empirical support). The

most that can be claimed is that certain techniques

have been developed because the astrologers advocating

them believed those techniques had empirical support.

Reinhold Ebertin (1901-1988) based his modern use of

43

mid-points22 on empirical evidence, but the empirical

evidence that he provides would not meet scientific

criteria. Mid-points have not replaced any other

technique but have simply been added to the list of

available techniques that astrologers may choose to

use. What astrologers have tended to do is to take

past techniques and adapt them in accordance with the

needs of their own practice and in the light of their

own working experience. Similarly, the meanings that

astrologers ascribe to the planets, signs and houses

have tended to be added to rather than refined in

response to the changing requirements of the

practising astrologer (see Brockbank 2003). There is

nothing to suggest that astrologers have ever removed

planetary meanings from their tradition because of a

lack of empirical support for those meanings.

Indeed, it is difficult to see how astrological

methodology could ever be empirically based. It is

generally agreed that astrology is a symbolic

language. John Addey (1920-82), a highly regarded

astrologer who was one of the pioneers of the

empirical approach, is clear on this when he says that

“the true practice of astrology depends upon reading

the symbolism of the nativity” (1982: 43). Reading

those symbols might appear to be a simple process for

which empirical laws could be developed but this is

not the case at all.

22

The degree between two planets is a mid-point. William Lilly uses one in Christian Astrology

(1647), but Ebertin introduced the idea that not only the mid-point between two planets was

important but also the seven other points in multiples of forty-five degrees from that mid-point.

Mid-points then became the central feature of his chart analysis, whereas for Lilly it was an

additional technique used sparingly at the end of a normal analysis.

44

It is not only a problem of having seven planets,

or ten planets if one includes Uranus, Neptune and

Pluto, or thousands of planets if the asteroids are

included; it is that the meaning of each of these

planets will depend on many different factors. First,

on the meanings derived from myth and the astrological

tradition; second, on the meanings that can be derived

from those traditional meanings through metaphor,

analogy and correspondence; third, on the position of

the planet in the birth chart – what sign or house it

is in – which effectively creates a new symbol, so

that Mars in Scorpio in the tenth house is a different

symbol to Mars in Libra in the tenth house or Mars in

Scorpio in the ninth house; fourth, on further

astrological considerations, such as the motion of the

planet – whether it is fast or slow, direct or

retrograde23 – its sect,

24 whether it is angular or

cadent,25 whether it is combust or free of the Sun‟s

rays,26 its planetary rulers;

27 and fifth, aspects it

makes to other planets.

It is impossible to create rules to evaluate all

these factors in a consistent manner because often

23

A planet is said to be retrograde when observed from Earth it appears to be moving backwards

along the ecliptic. 24

There are different concepts of sect in Hellenistic and Medieval astrology. In Hellenistic

astrology the Sun, Saturn and Jupiter are of the day sect and the Moon, Mars and Venus of the

night sect, while the sect of Mercury will depend on whether it is rising before or after the Sun.

Planets of the day sect are considered stronger when the Sun is above the horizon and the planets

of the night sect when the Sun is below the horizon. 25

The four houses which follow the four angles – the 1st, 4

th, 7

th and 10

th houses – are angular,

the houses which follow them succedent, and the last houses of each quarter segment cadent.

The angular houses are thought to be strong and the cadent houses weak. 26

A planet within 8 degrees of the Sun is considered to be combust and within 17 degrees of the

Sun is considered to be under his “rays”. Combustion is more severe but both conditions

weaken a planet. 27

Planets are ruled by other planets in at least four different ways. Each of these rulers will have

an impact on how that planet manifests on a birth chart.

45

they will be contradictory. One cannot use empirical

experiments, for example, to determine whether a

planet is more beneficial in a birth chart when it is

both retrograde and angular, compared to when it is

neither, because any attempt to create such a law will

have to assume that all other factors are equal, but

all other factors will not be equal. The planet may

be of the sect or it may not, it might be in its own

domicile28 or it might not, or it might receive a

difficult aspect from a malefic29 or it might a

positive aspect from a benefic30 or a positive aspect

from a malefic and a difficult aspect from a benefic,

or both, and it might be combust or not.31 One would

be setting oneself a task which could only be

achieved, to use Oakeshott‟s description, in a world

of fantasy. What astrologers usually do is to develop

their own particular approach; finding through the

actual practise of astrology an effective methodology.

Addey‟s own solution was to concentrate on

number,32 while Tarnas, as we shall see, proposes

archetypes, but these approaches, which simplify the

tradition by removing a large part of it, fail

because, if the methodology is to be empirical, even a

simplified approach must result in a specific meaning

for an astrological symbol. However, as there are

several hundred different meanings for each symbol and

as there is no limit to the potential number of

28

The house that it rules. 29

The malefic planets are Mars and Saturn. 30

The benefic planets are Jupiter and Venus. 31

Only Mercury and Venus could be combust and retrograde; the other planets if they are

retrograde will be too far from the Sun to be combust. 32

Addey developed harmonic theory which essentially postulates a numerological underpinning

to the cosmos.

46

contexts in which a symbol may be applied, this can

only be achieved if the meanings of the symbols are so

broad that they can be applied to any situation. The

problem then, however, is that these broad or core

meanings have to be applied to each unique situation,

which would require the astrologer to extrapolate out

from the core meaning a specific meaning appropriate

for the context. Given that there are no rules

derived from empirical support to do this one must

rely on the old non-empirical rules of astrological

thinking. If there was an empirical law it would have

to be ignored.

The strange relationship between astrologers and the

empirical

Given the nature of astrological practice it should be

clear that if astrologers were to fully embrace the

empirical approach they would have to completely

change their actual practice. As the scientific

researchers make clear astrologers have shown no

inclination to do this. One might, therefore,

conclude that astrologers have come to reject the

empirical. This, however would be to misunderstand

the close relationship between astrologers and the

empirical.

Testing astrological techniques through one‟s own

personal practice goes back at least as far as Vettius

Valens, who in the 1st century C.E. wrote one of the

earliest extant astrological textbooks. Valens often

lists alternative astrological techniques and then

says that he finds, in accord with his own experience,

47

that one particular technique works best. In

addition, he illustrates the efficacy of certain

techniques by using example birth charts such as those

of six individuals who escaped with their lives after

shipwreck (2001: 71-77).

Valens assumed astrology was efficacious and was

simply trying to determine which of the techniques

passed down by “the ancients” worked best. In later

centuries, when the efficacy of astrology was

questioned, astrologers would assert that their own

work was a demonstration of its effectiveness. Thus,

within the British tradition, in his Collection of

Nativities (1662), John Gadbury examines a collection

of notable birth charts to demonstrate the efficacy of

astrology. Of course, the efforts of Gadbury, no more

than those of Valens, would not persuade an empirical

scientist.

From the 1950s through to the 1980s many leading

British astrologers were keen to embark on an

empirical investigation which would show the efficacy

of astrology and it became a central purpose of the

Astrological Association of Great Britain. With the

development of computer technology, which made

statistical testing much easier, a larger number of

tests were conducted and by 1971 Addey was able to say

about astrology, “From being an outcast from the

fraternity of sciences, it seem destined to assume an

almost central role in scientific thought (…) its

impact will be felt in the next twenty years” (Addey

1971: 23).

However, as a greater understanding of what was

required by science was taken on board, leading to

48

more sophisticated tests, it became apparent that

nothing had been found to support any of the

astrological techniques used by astrologers.

Astrologers interested in this research would often

point to the work of Gauquelin but usually because

they thought the weak empirical support he found was

worth having and not because they wanted to

incorporate his findings into their own practice.

Despite these disappointing results, astrologers

have been reluctant to give up the idea that research

is important and that the empirical, in some way,

justifies their subject. Thus, as recently as 2002,

in the keynote speech at the Astrological Association

of Great Britain‟s annual conference, Julia Parker

felt able to say, “It is very reassuring that we can

confidently tell any sceptic or client that every

statement we make has the backing of empirical

research” (2002). This empirical research, of course,

does not actually exist, but the fact that a well-

respected astrologer of long standing might think that

it does shows us how closely the idea of research is

tied up with many astrologer‟s understanding of their

subject.33 There are many internet sites on which

astrologers can be found researching their subject; by

matching birth charts to well known biographies, or by

examining the charts of current events, they can fine-

tune and develop their own techniques. However, none

of this would conform to the rigours of empirical

research demanded by the scientific researcher.

33

This claim is an old one. Cicero in the 1st C.E. century tells us of the claim made by some that

the Chaldean astrologers had calculated the nativities for all the children born for 470,000 years;

he points out that there is no evidence for this and that had they been in the practice of keeping

these records they would not have stopped keeping them (1997: 240).

49

Inappropriate thinking from astrologers and their

critics

This results in confused thinking by astrologers

and inappropriate criticism from their critics. In

order to illustrate both points I will refer to two

articles by Glenn Perry.

For many years Perry has been involved in the on-

going debate of the relevance of empirical testing for

astrology. When in 1994 such a discussion took place

in the pages of Correlation he agreed with the central

point being made by Dean et al., that astrological

literature makes many unsubstantiated claims: “There

is a huge amount of nonsense published in the field,

most of which takes the form of simplistic, overly

concrete, overly certain statements about the meaning

of chart variables” (1994: 31). His view at that time

was that scientific tests were unable to measure

astrological effects (ibid: 41). This is a position

one can hold. However, if you hold it, logically

certain things follow, one of which is that one cannot

use empirical tests as a criterion for evaluating

different types of astrology. Despite this, in a more

recent article (2007), Perry wanted to argue against

the practice of what is generally called traditional

astrology – astrology from the Hellenistic era through

to the medieval era – because “If there is no

conceivable way to test the merit of a claim, then it

is vacuous” (2007: 30) and traditional techniques

“comprise [of] a muddled, idiosyncratic mess of

50

untestable ideas that have no basis in anything

observable” (ibid: 32).

One might conclude that Perry has changed his

mind. After all, there are thirteen years between the

two articles. However, his confusion is immediately

apparent when in the same article he considers his

preferred astrology, psychological astrology. He says

that astrological signs are multivalent – “that they

are capable of interacting in multiple ways and with

variable outcomes.” And he concludes, “When one

considers that every sign, planet, house and aspect

likewise has a range of meanings, and that these

meanings unite, react, and interact in multiple ways

(multivalence), the very idea that the chart should be

predictable borders on the preposterous” (ibid: 32).

However, if the idea that a chart is predictable

borders on the preposterous then the idea that any

empirical data exists to support the principles

underlying these judgments also borders on the

preposterous. If astrological symbols are multivalent

and unpredictable then how does one determine what

they mean? The implication from Perry is that we

deduce their meanings from direct observations, but if

they are multivalent and unpredictable that cannot be

what we do. It seems that the criterion used to

dismiss traditional astrology – empirical observation

– is selectively employed here and is not to be used

to measure Perry‟s own preferred astrology.

This confusion is common within astrological

literature. Astrologers are often aware that no

empirical test-work has been found to support their

subject; they may well conclude that these tests

51

simply fail to capture the essence of astrology, but

will then go on to use personal research - which they

often pass off as empirical test-work - as the

criterion to determine the effectiveness of their own

preferred astrology. In a sense this is natural

because the default position of most people would be

that the criterion for choosing between two different

astrological techniques is their accuracy demonstrated

through empirical test-work. However, natural or not,

such an approach is confused.

Perry goes on to argue that traditional

astrology is fated and that this is an untenable

position to hold, and he summarises the metaphysical

position of traditional astrology as follows: “For

unknown reasons and for no apparent purpose, the

cosmos has arranged itself such that an individual‟s

character and fate is foretold in the positions of the

planets at birth. Personality and fate are largely

unalterable” (ibid: 23). In support of his position

he then goes on to quote Valens: “Fate has decreed for

every human being the unalterable realisation of his

horoscope, fortifying it with many causes of good and

bad things to come”(ibid: 23). Perry has misread

Valens‟ philosophical position. Valens did not

believe that fate was unalterable and he did leave

room for other factors which could affect the way a

horoscope would work itself out through a life (see

Greenbaum: 2006). However, even if Perry had

understood Valens‟ philosophical position, the trap

would be to make the mistake of looking at what Valens

said he was doing and not looking at how Valens used

his astrology in practice. Valens might say he

52

believed in a fated unalterable life, and, therefore,

in a fated and unalterable astrology. We might then

argue that it is impossible for his astrology to work

in this way. However, from this assertion – that his

astrology does not work in an altered way – we cannot

claim that his astrology does not work at all because

it may work in a more flexible way. There is clearly

a difference between what Valens‟ might claim for his

astrology – which may depend on his overall view of

how the world works – and what his astrology actually

does.

What one needs to do is to look at the techniques

and methodology actually being used. If Perry had

considered Valens methodology more closely, he would

have found that the techniques used are surprisingly

multivalent and, therefore, in line with Perry‟s own

understanding of astrology. Valens‟ analysis of house

significations, for example, requires considerable

personal input from the astrologer who interprets a

chart following Valens. The point is that criticising

the theory is quite different to criticising the

practice because, in the case of astrology, often the

theory is quite different to the practice. Critics of

astrology might want to say, 'astrology is about

predicting the future, there is no evidence it can do

this, therefore it is nonsense', but this pre-supposes

that it is concerned with predicting the future. The

fact that certain astrologers may claim that it does

predict the future is not, by itself, sufficient

reason for assuming that this is what it does. One

reason for this is that there will be (and are) other

53

astrologers who say it has nothing to do with

predicting the future.

By subscribing to the empirical astrologers have

done their practice an injustice. It has been too

easy for people to dismiss the practice of astrology

because the methodology actually used has apparent

internal inconsistencies and is not based on an

empirical approach, while astrological techniques have

not been supported by empirical research. However, to

consider astrology as a practice relying on empirical

evidence is a mistake because the methodology is not

meant to be, and cannot be, empirically based, while

the purpose of astrology is not to produce results

which can be confirmed by empirical tests. What a

scholarly approach to astrology requires is an

examination of the methodology of astrology in order

to determine what that methodology achieves and what

it relies upon.

The attachment to the empirical

There may be many reasons why astrologers are attached

to the empirical. Midgley suggests that "there is a

tremendous influence of imaginative visions in

general, and of the atomistic vision in particular, in

forming our thought patterns" (2001: 73). We will see

the importance of an imaginative vision when we

consider some of the models for astrology and the

ideal world that they assume. The atomistic vision,

the desire to reduce everything, including values, to

the smallest unit possible so that they can then be

added up and compared, is the empirical approach. It

54

is likely that astrologers are particularly liable to

be attached to the empirical because they see it

“working” in their practice and find it hard to accept

that this personal experience is not empirical. This

important issue of astrology “working” will be fully

discussed in chapter five. Another factor that helps

explain why astrologers are attracted to the empirical

is that they think it would provide credibility for

their subject. This credibility, however, only exists

to the extent that other people are attached to the

empirical approach; an approach which is only one of

many possible approaches. By subscribing to the

empirical approach astrologers equate the empirical

approach with the astrological approach. Apart from

making a category error for the reasons detailed above

this emasculates their own subject because it allows

another discipline to provide the criterion for

determining its success.

Conclusion

There are many reasons why judicial astrology cannot

be a science. The fundamental problem is that

judicial astrology involves making a judgment by

choosing from and evaluating many different

astrological rules and techniques which can be

contradictory. The existence of empirically supported

maxims would not enable one to choose between them:

there is no rule for choosing between the rules.

Thus, a scientific astrology would be a reformed

astrology bearing little or no relationship to extant

astrological practice. It could not begin to explain

55

what astrologers are actually doing when they engage

in astrology. Judicial astrology is concerned with

individual humans with contingent circumstances

whereas a scientific astrology would be concerned with

developing universal rules which would map planetary

configurations with events on earth which could be of

use to those humans. The two enterprises are

completely different; linked only through the use of

the same planetary phenomena.

Postcript

This chapter might give the impression that all

astrologers have been in thrall to the empirical.

However, although this has been the prevalent view in

much Western astrology during the twentieth century,

especially in Britain during since the 1970s owing to

the views of certain of its leading members, it has

never had universal support. Charles Carter (1887-

1968), an important figure in twentieth-century

British astrology, was sceptical of the scientific

approach (see 1996/7: 84) while leading American

astrologer Dane Rudhyar (1895-1985) specifically

rejected the empirical approach, and within the last

thirty years Cornelius (with his colleagues at the

Company of Astrologers) has pioneered a divinatory

approach to astrology. It is also, perhaps, worth

pointing out that although some astrologers have

ceased to practise, owing to the lack of empirical

support for astrology, the majority of astrologers

have continued to practise as normal in spite of the

56

lack of this empirical evidence.34 This by itself

would suggest that the problem astrologers have is not

with their practice but with the theory underpinning

their practice.

34

Dean et al. list some of these people who have given up astrology on p 126 of Phillipson

(2000), although, other than themselves, they only mention three names, one of whom recently

wrote to Correlation a letter implying that he continues to practise astrology; see Hamblin

(2006).

57

Chapter Two: Different responses to the lack of

empirical evidence

Introduction

We will be considering in detail five different

responses to the lack of empirical evidence for

astrology. The response of the scientific researchers

that astrology can be best seen as a form of

satisfaction; the attempt to align astrology with one

of the new sciences; the attempt to place astrology

within a theory of correspondences; the attempt to

place astrology within an archetypal framework; and

the view that astrology can best be seen as a form of

divination. In addition, we will consider the view

that astrology can be seen as a form of bricolage or

as a language game. These responses have all been

developed over the last twenty years but in this

chapter we will place the five main responses within

the astrological tradition and provide an historical

overview. To do this it is sensible to first consider

the approach which claims the oldest origins -

divinatory astrology.

Astrology as a form of divination

a) Origins

The approach which depicts astrology as a form of

divination has been developed by Cornelius, with his

58

book The Moment of Astrology,35 Maggie Hyde and others

member of the Company of Astrologers, the astrological

group Cornelius is associated with, during the last

twenty years of the twentieth century. Divinatory

astrology proposes that in some way a divinatory

power, or non-human agency, is involved in the coming

together of horoscope, client and situation in a way

that enables the astrologer to interpret “the will of

the gods” and provide information on the situation

being looked at. Thus, it answers the question Cicero

poses (1997: 204), when he wonders what divination can

be concerned with other than the senses, arts or

philosophy, in an obvious way: divinatory astrology

is concerned with obtaining information from the gods.

This approach does not accept that the lack of

empirical evidence for astrology is a problem at all,

because it does not require astrology to always work

and does not require empirical tests, whether

scientific or not, for its claims of validity. It

takes the view that, in emphasising the importance of

empirical test-work, researchers and many astrologers

have misunderstood the practice of astrology and what

is occurring during the astrological process. To

borrow Coleridge‟s elegant phrase, empirical tests “do

not move on the same line or plane, and therefore

cannot contradict” divinatory astrology.36

The quintessential form of divinatory astrology

is horary astrology - the practice of calculating a

chart for the moment that a question about a

35

This book was first published in 1994 and then published in a revised edition in 2003. All

references to it will refer to the revised edition. 36

Coleridge is discussing reason being applied to the mysteries of Christianity. (See Coleridge

1985: 670-1)

59

particular matter is asked and interpreting that chart

in accordance with certain generally accepted rules.

It is the quintessential form because one is asking

the divine or a non-human agency for an answer.

Cornelius places horary astrology in historical

context by arguing that it emanates from the Greek

practice of καταρχη and before that in augury. In his

argument he refers to both Dorotheus of Sidon (1st

century CE) and to some horoscopes of Palchus (see

Neugebauer and Van Hoesen 1959).

There are, however, problems in using the work of

Dorotheus and Palchus to support the argument that the

early Hellenistic astrologers practised horary

astrology. The only extant version of Dorotheus is an

Arabic prose translation of the original Greek verse

while Palchus, although the charts are calculated for

the 5th century, is a pseudonym for a 14

th century

Byzantine astrologer-scribe. Further, many of the

example charts of Palchus are for inceptions – the

beginning of something - rather than horary charts –

the asking of a question. In Greek καταρχη literally

means “to make the beginning of things”, although it

was also used to refer to the start of a ritual or

sacrifice (see Willis and Curry 2003: 59).

Astrological charts in which one calculates a chart

for the moment one takes a new job, or embarks on a

journey, were generally called inceptions and were

distinguished from horary astrology in which a chart

is calculated for the moment a question is asked and

was usually known as interrogational astrology.

Indeed, the latest work suggests that the Hellenistic

astrologers (200 BCE to 5th century CE) did not

60

practise horary or interrogative astrology but that

they did practise καταρχη or the astrology of

inceptions (see Brennan 2007).

However, whether or not the Hellenistic

astrologers practised horary astrology what matters is

that at the time – 1st century CE and earlier – it was

normal to practise an astrology which accepted both

that life was largely pre-ordained and fated (which

theoretically could become a “scientific” system based

on observation) and also the intimate involvement of

the divine. We can see this in the work of Valens who

did believe that a life was largely fated and tells us

that “fate has ordained for each an immutable

actualising of outcomes” (1997: 20). But Valens is

also clear that the practice of astrology involves the

divine and, in his own case at least, it brings one

closer to the gods:

However, when I met with the divine and

venerable theory of the heavens, I wished to

purge my character of all evil and all stain

and form a conception in advance of the soul

as immortal. And from this point on, things

divine seemed to converse with me, and the

intellective part of me gained a sober manner

of investigation (ibid: 63).

Elsewhere he tells us, “it is impossible to gain total

victory over some original foundation [of the birth

chart] with prayers or sacrifices” (ibid: 21). This

implies both that some relief can be obtained through

prayer and sacrifice, and that appealing to the gods

61

is part of Valens‟ milieu. Indeed, in the Anthology,

Valens gives the appropriate time from an astrological

perspective to sacrifice to the gods.

In contrast, Valens‟ first-century contemporary

Claudius Ptolemy proposed a largely Aristotelian

structure for astrology in which the planets emanate

the qualities of hot, dry, cold and moist, and that

these effluences cause effects on earth. In this way

a specific event on earth is correlated with a

specific event in the sky, and there is no necessity

for the involvement of the divine.

The Ptolemaic model caused problems with the idea

of free will because the effects that the planets

caused were fixed by one‟s birth chart and in the

following century Plotinus argued that the planets did

not cause effects but could act as signs of future

events, which some people might be able to interpret.

For Plotinus everything on Earth was interconnected

through the One (1991: 2.3.7).

We can see here two schools emerging. One school

proposes a scientific system in which the planets are

causes and generate their own effects; this system

might ultimately be attributable to the divine but the

divine is not an integral part of it. The other

school proposes a practice which requires the

involvement of an astrologer to interpret the signs as

well as the involvement of the deity to provide the

signs. Arguably, the former could be labelled neo-

Aristotelian astrology, since the model is based on

Ptolemy‟s reformation of astrology in terms of

Aristotelian science, and the latter neo-Platonic

astrology, since it follows Plotinus and the

62

interconnection of all things. The prevailing

cosmology at the time, in which it was generally

believed that the stars and planets were living

entities with souls, (see Scott 1991), allowed for

both strands, and Cornelius places καταρχη, or

divinatory astrology, in the neo-Platonic strand which

allows for communication with the gods.

There are at least two questions that one must

ask. The first is how do the planets affect our lives

on earth? This was answered by Ptolemy in terms of

the Aristotelian qualities that they emit. The second

is why does the moment of astrology, usually the

moment of birth, have an impact on the rest of a

life?37 If the planets are emitting their qualities

as they travel round the earth then why does not any

effect that they have on our lives dissipate once the

planets have moved position after our birth?

Cornelius argues that, for Ptolemy, “both conception

and birth are given pre-eminence in time, or moments

of causal origin” (2003: 89), and that he justifies

this position by what Cornelius calls the “hypothesis

of seeds” in which the planets impress their celestial

influence “at the instant of fertilisation of a seed”

(2003: 86). Ptolemy, talking of conception, says:

37

See Bird‟s discussion of first, second and third order correspondences (2006: 64-66). The

first order correspondence matches events in the sky with events on earth; the second order

correspondence is between the moment of an inception, say birth, and what continues from it, in

this case a life; while the third order correspondence progresses or regresses a horoscope, usually

a birth chart, forward or backwards using a notional, rather than actual, measurement of time to

make future prognostications. However, she could have added a fourth order, although one

might not be able to call it a correspondence, in which one makes one‟s prognostications without

recourse to an exact moment of time. Most of book seven of Valens‟ Anthology is concerned

with a method of making prognostications based on the ascensional times of the signs of the

zodiac and the planetary periods of the planets, which does not require an accurate time of birth.

If one does not know the sign ascending at the time of birth, this technique will be limited but

can still be used (see Brockbank 2006).

63

For to the seed is given once and for all at

the beginning such and such qualities by the

endowment of the ambient; and even though it

may change as the body subsequently grows,

since by the natural process it mingles with

itself in the process of growth only matters

which is akin to itself, thus it resembles

even more closely the type of its initial

quality (Ptolemy, Robbins translation (1940),

Book 3: 1).

It is against this proposition that Cornelius

specifically contrasts his divinatory astrology.

As Cornelius points out, in his argument Ptolemy

moves from the moment of conception in which there is

a seed to the moment of birth where there is no seed

and that this is problematic. However, it may be that

Ptolemy‟s position is even less clear than Cornelius

realises. The actual word that Ptolemy uses to

describe the moment of conception is αρχη, while the

word he uses to describe the moment of birth is

καταρχη. Αρχη might suggest the starting of a causal

chain, but καταρχη suggests the moment of birth might

be seen as a ritual and as Schmidt, one of Ptolemy‟s

translators, argues, “It indicates that Ptolemy

himself would regard the natal chart not causally, but

rather as a significant moment in an ongoing process

64

or ritual, one which can be used to divine later

events” (Ptolemy, Schmidt translation (1996): 4).38

However, whether or not astrologers understood

what Ptolemy was saying, it is undoubtedly true that

astrology was subject to “increasing formalisation”

(see Willis and Curry 2004: 61) and that the Ptolemaic

Aristotelian framework, with the planets emitting the

qualities of hot, cold, dry and moist, was important

in astrological thinking up until the 17th century and

the demise of Aristotelian science, making it possible

to have an astrological system with God at the top but

outside (ibid: 70). It is likely that throughout the

whole period there was an uneasy relationship between

an astrology which was “rational”, and in accord with

the science of the day, and an astrology in which the

spiritual world played an active part, with much

depending on what the Church would allow.39 For

example, according to Miguel Forcada in 11th century

Andalusia, Ibn Hazan criticised astrology for not

being “scientific”, by which he meant it was not

supported by “empirical evidence or experience”, which

left it as divination. And if it was divination, it

was blasphemous because only the prophet could

foretell the future.40 In such a context, astrologers

would try to downplay the divinatory aspects of their

practice and emphasise the “scientific”.

Since the collapse of Aristotelian science,

astrologers have kept the original Ptolemaic qualities

38

Equally, as Bernard Eccles suggested to me, as κατα in Greek is a prefix meaning “down” it

could simply mean that there is a downwards movement during birth. 39

So many astrological texts from the Arabic to Medieval period still remain to be catalogued,

let alone translated into English, that any conclusion can be tentative at best. 40

Lecture presented to the Warburg Institute on the 13th

November 2008.

65

in their planetary attributes but tried to replace the

Ptolemaic causal theory of the planets with a variety

of theories none of which is convincing (see Dean

1996: 17-53). At the same time, with an empirically

based science becoming more dominant, there was

renewed interest in obtaining empirical support for

astrology, so that its principles and techniques could

be supported by the new scientific paradigm.

Cornelius‟ position can be seen as a reaction against

this. In this process Cornelius, and his associates

at the Company of Astrologers, have redefined the term

radical.

b) Radical charts

The word radical comes from the Latin radix, meaning

“root”. In the Arabic era, the idea developed that

for a chart to be rooted it had to refer to the birth

of a distinct entity, and possibly the origin of this

idea comes from Ptolemy. Thus a birth chart was

rooted because it referred to the birth of an

individual entity. In contrast, charts erected for

events were not rooted because they were not

necessarily the beginning of anything. The way to

root these charts was to refer them back to the

previous ingress chart – the moment that the Sun

enters Aries – or to the previous conjunction of

Saturn and Jupiter, because the ingress chart was the

start of a new year and the conjunction chart was the

start of a new cycle. In this way one could root the

event chart by comparing it with a chart of a birth of

a new entity. For horary astrology – the birth of a

66

question - the situation was slightly different, and

considerations before judgment were developed which

would determine whether or not the horoscope was

genuine and fit to be judged.41

As Cornelius points out, astrologers assume that

a rooted chart – the birth chart for a life – will

provide appropriate astrological symbolism. However,

if what matters is that the symbols in the horoscope

should describe the matter being considered, there is

no need to make the extra assumption that a chart

timed for the birth of a new entity will provide those

symbols. What will matter is not whether the time is

an accurate time of a birth of a new entity but

whether the astrological symbols are appropriate.

Thus, for Cornelius “radicality is the assumption that

the horoscope is a true symbolic representation of its

subject” (2003: 231). Cornelius argues against the

assumption that there is a necessary correlation

between the astrology of a particular moment of time

and a particular life or event. He comes to two

important conclusions:

The same-time coming together of OBJECTIVE

EVENT and OBJECTIVE HEAVENS is not a necessary

condition for the astrological effect to come

to pass (2003: 83).

And

41

Much of this analysis was provided by Benjamin Dykes, the translator of Guido Bonatti‟s

(c1210-1295) The Book of Astronomy, in a talk given at the Astrological Lodge of London‟s

2008 History Conference. In that talk Dykes also suggested that Bonatti considered that the

radicality of a horary question was provided by God, and that the considerations of judgment,

which he used to determine whether a horary question was genuine and could be judged,

determined whether or not God had provided that radicality.

67

The same-time coming together of OBJECTIVE

EVENT and OBJECTIVE HEAVENS is not a

sufficient condition for the astrological

effect to come to pass (ibid).

Cornelius‟ work is heavily influenced by William Lilly

(1602-1692), and it is in Lilly‟s work that we start

to see the considerations before judgment for horary

questions, which for Guido Bonatti (c1210-1295)

determined whether a question was genuine and could be

judged, being incorporated into the overall judgment

so that it was possible for a chart to be more or less

radical in relation to how well the astrological

symbolism described the matter being considered.42

However, whatever the influence of Lilly, it is

Cornelius, along with his colleagues at the Company of

Astrologers, who have brought this new definition of a

radical horoscope into the astrological world.

The Aristotelian tradition

We have seen how Ptolemy in the first century

reformulated astrological concepts in terms of the

prevailing Aristotelian science – so the planets

emitted the qualities of hot, cold, moist and dry -

and this remained popular with astrologers through to

the enlightenment and the collapse of the Aristotelian

42

For example, when discussing the signification of a thief, Lilly says, “and if it happen that the

Lord of the hour be Lord of the Seventh, then it be more radical” (1647: 331). The ruler of the

seventh house signifies a thief while each hour is ruled by a particular planet. The chart is more

radical if the planet ruling the thief is also ruler of the hour because it ties in the time of the

question with the question being asked and one can be more comfortable making a judgment.

68

tradition. Astrologers then tried to show how

astrology was compatible with the new scientific

paradigm which relied on empirical observation. There

have been two responses from those who think astrology

should be seen as a science but recognise that forty

years of tests have failed to find support for

astrological practice.

a) Astrology as a new science

Some of those astrologers who are reluctant to give up

the idea of astrology as scientific practice, but who

understand that empirical tests fail to support it,

have tried to find a solution by borrowing from the

new theories of physics – chaos theory, complexity

theory, quantum theory – and argued that the kind of

interconnected world that those theories describe is

similar to the kind of world that astrology assumes.

However, there is a large step from this

observation, which may or may not be true, to the

claim that chaos theory, complexity theory or quantum

theory can support the rules and techniques that

astrologers actually use in their practice. Indeed,

there are not many astrologers who have attempted to

show in any detail how these theories might support

astrology. One who has made the attempt is Bernadette

Brady in her book Astrology: a Place in Chaos (2006),

and we will consider her work in the chapter six.43

This is a work in progress and Brady‟s views may well

43

Brady first aired her theory at the Astrological Association York conference of 2005. It was

the last major session of the conference and went down extraordinarily well with the delegates.

This is partly because Brady is an engaging speaker of real ability but also, I believe, because

astrologers, in general, do want their subject to be aligned with one of the new sciences.

69

have moved on but the problems that she faces are the

same problems that anyone trying to align astrology

with one of the new scientific theories will face.

b) Astrology as satisfaction

In contrast, Dean et al. think that astrology should

be seen as a scientific practice and reject any

attempt to align it with one of the new sciences,

believing that is simply a refusal to accept the

failure of empirical test work. Instead, they explain

the apparent working of astrology through reasoning

errors: astrology is not really working – if it did

empirical evidence would be found to support it – but

there are all kinds of human judgment or reasoning

errors that astrologers fall into which makes them

think that it works. For example according to Dean et

al.: “when our belief is established in advance” we,

as humans, have a pre-disposition to see “non-existent

correlations”, so that “If we believe that

extraversion is indicated by a preponderance of

planets in positive signs, or that sensitivity is

indicated by Cancer rising, or that a difficult

relationship is indicated by her Saturn on his Mars,

then our observations will probably confirm it even if

our belief is false” (1998/9: 36).

This human judgment error is called the “illusory

correlation” but there are others.44 However, Dean et

al. do not deny the experiences of astrologers (Mather

2008: 56) and accept that clients may find the

44

A list of these errors is given on p136 of Phillipson (2000). Some of those others are:

“anchoring”, “confirmation bias”, “Dr Fox effect”, and the “Rumpelstiltskin effect”.

70

consultation process useful but believe that these can

be best explained if astrology is seen as a way of

providing “satisfaction”. This requires more

empirical tests to determine how astrology performs as

satisfaction when compared to other forms of

consultation. “The implication is that subjective

astrology should compete with other forms of

counselling on an effectiveness scale determined by

scientific investigation” (Phillipson 2000: 164).

This important position is discussed in chapter five.

Neo-Platonic astrology

We have mentioned that in parallel with the

'scientific' approach to astrology an approach which

required both participation and the divine was

developed. Cornelius places divinatory astrology

within this strand and, as we shall see, considers his

approach to be neo-Platonic following the tradition of

Iamblicus, Ficino and others. However, as we will

make clear in chapters ten, eleven and thirteen, there

is another form of neo-Platonic thought which also

relies on Plotinus and his understanding of all things

being connected through the one. This interconnection

of all things on Earth has been a central idea in many

attempts to provide a theory for astrological

practice. According to Mike Harding:

The majority of the philosophical views put

forward in astrological journals tend to

present a neo-Platonic description of our

situation. Here, we can understand ourselves

71

in terms of pre-existing, timeless ideas that

come into being with the cycles of the planets

which inform every aspect of our lives. In

these original, arche patterns lie the meaning

and purpose of all life. To the neo-Platonist

this is a self-evident truth. A truth,

moreover, which is theoretically open to our

rational inspection, and when sufficiently

inspected, will reveal its unshakeable,

underlying reality in all things (1993: 149).

Two of the models which I intend to consider are

examples of this view point.

a) Elwell's Cosmic Loom

The type of astrology outlined in Dennis Elwell's book

Cosmic Loom (1999), influential within astrological

circles, relies on a modern version of the medieval

theory of correspondences, which directly emanates

from Plotinus' understanding that everything on Earth

is connected through the One. However, despite

relying on a medieval system Elwell considers his

astrology as a “new science” and believes that that

there is sufficient evidence to support his proposed

techniques and it will be important to show why this

is not the case.

b) Tarnas' Cosmos and Psyche

The second example will be the archetypal astrology

proposed by Richard Tarnas and detailed in his book

72

Cosmos and Psyche. Tarnas accepts that research is

necessary but rejects scientific empirical testing,

although (unlike many astrologers) he understands the

problem he faces – how to justify research which does

not conform to scientific norms – and although I

believe his theory does not stand up to scrutiny,

these problems are the problems that any theory in

this category will face, and his failure is

instructive.

Tarnas believes that astrology works through

planetary archetypes and that these archetypes

underpin the world as we know it:

At the heart of the astrological perspective

is the claim that the planets are

fundamentally associated with specific

archetypes, and the planetary patterns in the

heavens are reflected in corresponding

archetypal patterns in human affairs. By

archetypes I am referring on one level to

Jung‟s modern psychological conception

(Tarnas: Astrological Journal, Vol. 31 (4 and

5) cited by Harding 1992: 71).

That there are underlying principles which support

astrological practice, as has been mentioned, is

similar to the view of Addey, who believed a form of

numerology underlined astrological practice, and

Charles Harvey (1940-2000) who believed that planetary

cycles underpinned astrology.

Tarnas places his astrology within the

psychological tradition of astrology which arguably

73

has become the most dominant movement within current

astrological practice (see Willis and Curry 2004: 73).

Astrologers practising in this tradition have borrowed

many concepts from psychology, especially from Jung,

to develop an astrological methodology which will

enable them to work with the psychological problems of

their clients. The emphasis is on consultation,

personal growth and development rather than

prediction.

Summary and Conclusion

In the first century Ptolemy reformulated extant

astrological practice in terms of the Aristotelian

science prevalent at the time. At the same time it

was possible to see astrology as an expression of the

will of the divine. Thus, as far back as the first

century two traditions were created. One of which was

„scientific‟ with astrology being the natural result

of the physical characteristics of the planets in

which the divine was an optional extra and one in

which astrology consisted of signs from the divine

which could be interpreted. These traditions remain

with us today with some arguing that astrology should

be seen as a scientific practice, while others arguing

that some sort of divine or alternative power is

involved. The strand which accepts the involvement of

an alternative power is further split into those who

believe that it involves a system of natural laws or

principles which underlies the world, even if these

natural laws have not been found through empirical

74

test work, and those who believe that there is no

reason for assuming these natural laws or principles.

75

Chapter Three - The Responsive Cosmos

Introduction

In sections one and two we will outline our hypothesis

and discuss different definitions of divination in

order to show the way we consider the astrological

process to be a form of divination. In the third

section we will show how the assumption of the

Responsive Cosmos is created, and in the fourth

section we will place it within its historical

tradition. In the fifth section we will discuss the

types of cosmology with which it is compatible and

incompatible and in the sixth section compare it to

other concepts which might be thought to be similar.

In the final section we will discuss how one might use

the concept of the Responsive Cosmos in scholarly

work.

Our hypothesis

The question that astrologers must answer is, 'Why

should an astrological chart have any relevance for

the matter being considered?' In the absence of

empirical evidence supporting astrological laws and

rules there is no obvious reason why a map of the sky

for any moment should have any relevance to any entity

on earth. The answer argued for in this thesis is as

follows:

76

A non-human agency is involved in the coming

together of astrologer, astrological chart,

client and context in a way that will enable

the astrologer to provide relevant guidance on

the matter being considered.

For reasons which will be explained in this chapter I

have come to describe this non-human agency as the

Responsive Cosmos.

This understanding of divination is within the

divinatory tradition developed by Cornelius and is

indebted to him and his approach to astrology. In The

Moment of Astrology Cornelius defines divinatory

astrology as the interpretation of the "will of divine

beings" and elsewhere as “communication with a spirit-

like intelligence or reality” (2010). These

definitions are compatible with my definition, if one

understands that the astrological chart and context

have been brought together by the divine beings or

spirit-like intelligence in a way that allows the

astrologer to interpret the wishes of the gods in the

form of relevant guidance for the matter at hand.

Cornelius‟ later definition does not specify the

divine nor suggest a purpose to an enquiry. In this

it is similar to my own definition: the bringing

together of an astrological chart and context in a way

that enables one to provide relevant guidance may

occur even if the beings are not divine, in the sense

of all powerful, and the guidance may have some

purpose other than expressing the particular will of a

divine being. It is, for example, possible for two

astrologers to consider the same chart and come to two

77

different conclusions. One would have to assume that

either one astrologer had made an incorrect

interpretation or that the divine beings had different

views on the matter. For this reason I prefer a

definition which does not make any extra assumptions

about the purpose or origin of the non-human agency.

Alternative ways to understand divination

The definition promulgated by this thesis is different

to most other definitions of 'divining' or

'divination' used in astrology. Cornelius' The Moment

of Astrology was first published in 1993 and several

articles in which he developed his approach were

published in astrological journals during the 1980s

and, consequently, many astrologers are aware of his

arguments. This has led to several different

suggestions of what is meant by divinatory astrology.

Addey sees it as a form of intuition (1982: 43),

Mather equates divination with psychic ability (2008:

55), which seems to be an attempt to provide a

scientific rationale for the divinatory process;45

Thorley refers to several astrologers who try to

equate divination with “some kind of frenzied,

rhapsodic or identifiable altered state of

45

Mather refers to Cornelius‟ discussion of PSI and ESP in The Moment of Astrology (2003: 75-

78), and this could explain why he discusses divination in terms of psychic ability. However,

both he and the other scientific researchers, in my view, misunderstand what Cornelius is saying.

Cornelius is discussing a strange phenomenon that astrologers encounter; astrologers find that

when they are interested in particular subjects, they often receive charts concerned with that

subject, and that if they are interested in particular astrological symbols, those symbols will keep

reappearing in the charts that they look at. This is a separate matter to what is going on when

one makes a divinatory judgment.

78

consciousness” (2006/7: 8);46 while Bird suggests that

astrologers engage “with creative symbolism of the

type described by Islamic scholar Henri Corbin as

emanating from the Mundus Imaginalis” (2006: 100),

although she admits that this understanding would have

been resisted by most of her fellow students in the

astrological classes she attended, who would have

considered their practice “as a thoroughly

intellectual enterprise” (ibid).

These definitions all attempt to equate

divination with some state or process internal to the

astrologer. However, by defining divination in this

way they fail to answer the central question - why

should an astrological chart have any relevance to the

matter at hand - because what matters in such

definitions is whether the astrologer has this

internal state or process and not the relevance of the

chart to the context. Thus, the criterion for

divination taking place is whether this internal state

or process occurs. However, the only criterion for

whether this internal state of process takes place is

the word of the astrologer. This is a problem because

the astrologer may claim this internal process has

taken place when the prognostication is not relevant

to the matter at hand and may claim it did not take

place when the prognostication is relevant to the

matter at hand.

Two further problems follow from this: first, if

divination is defined as an internal state or process,

46

For Cicero, there were two types of divination; one which depended on art and the other which

depended on nature. Astrology was divination as an art but a “frenzied” state was more likely to

occur with divination as nature, through a dream or through a soothsayer in which there was

direct contact with the gods (see 1997: 146 and 174).

79

then one must be assuming either that the astrological

chart will always be relevant to the matter at hand or

that the relevance of the chart to that matter is

irrelevant because potentially one will always be able

to divine – there would be no necessary connection

between an internal process and relevance of chart and

context; and second, it assumes that all successful

astrological judgments involve this internal state or

process. Often, however, this is not the case. For

example, in the example horoscope which we will

delineate in the next chapter there was no such state

but the delineation is an example of a successful

astrological judgment.

Our understanding of divination is also different

to that of Swiss psychologist Von Franz who sees

divination as a method of contacting archetypes which

form the collective unconscious of the world (1980:

56-57). If this is what happens there would seem to

be no reason for calling the process divination

because the divine element has been removed and it

becomes a methodology for contacting these archetypes

which underpin our unconscious thinking.

In contrast to these understandings of

divination, the „occult‟ part of our hypothesis which

constitutes the divinatory part of our understanding

of the astrological process is the bringing together

of astrological chart and context in a way that is

relevant and allows the astrologer to provide relevant

guidance. It is the providing of signs to be read and

interpreted that is occult and not the reading or

interpreting of those signs. The interpretation is

done in accordance with the rules of astrology and an

80

astrological judgment is made which, as we shall

discuss in the next chapter, is similar to any other

human judgment.

This leads to an important point. The occult

part of our understanding of astrology is the

provision of signs by the non-human agency. Thus, it

would be possible for someone to practice astrology

without accepting the existence of this non-human

agency; it would be possible for that astrologer to

deny that he/she has any dialogue with the non-human

agency and that he/she simply reads the chart and

finds that it is relevant. However, if that

astrologer is interested in elucidating astrological

practice then he/she must still explain why an

astrological chart is relevant to the matter being

considered.

In the absence of empirical support for natural

laws underpinning astrological rules and techniques

one must either postulate the existence of a non-human

agency that brings together chart or context, or say

that there is no reason to assume the astrological

chart is relevant to the context. The former view is

the view of the divinatory astrologer – made explicit

by Cornelius who argues there is no necessary

connection between a particular planetary

configuration in the sky and an astrological effect on

earth – while the latter is the view of the scientific

researcher. The scientific researcher does not argue

that astrology is, as a consequence, useless but that

it is only concerned with satisfaction (subjective

matters) and should be tested accordingly. Thus, the

astrologer who argues that the non-human agency is not

81

involved must, in the absence of natural laws, clarify

whether their astrology involves more than

satisfaction and if it does the basis of making that

claim. It is because astrologers do not address this

question but at the same time are reluctant to admit

that astrology is only a form of satisfaction that we

have claimed that all astrologers implicitly or

explicitly hold the assumption that a non-human agency

is involved in the astrological process.

Our assumption of the Responsive Cosmos also

provides a different understanding of divination than

at least one academic definition. In their

introduction to Oracles and Divination, Michael Lowe

and Carmen Blacker provide the following definition:

“By divination we mean the attempt to elicit from some

higher power or supernatural being the answers to

questions beyond the range of ordinary understanding”

(1981).47 However, our definition does not require

the astrologer to be asking for any information from a

higher power. The astrologer might simply interpret

an existing astrological chart without asking any

question at all: one does not ask for transits, the

actual movement of planets, to one's birth chart but

astrologers interpret them all the time. Indeed, the

Lowe and Blacker definition of divination seems

inadequate when one considers that someone like

Xenophon regularly interpreted the behaviour of birds

and people as signs from the gods: when his

47

It is worth noting how different this definition is from the definition of divination provided by

Chrysippus in On Divination (see Cicero 1997, 255): “… a power of apprehending, discerning,

and explaining those signs which are given by the Gods to men as portents.” The modern

sensibility requires that human solicit the information whereas the ancient sensibility allows it to

be provided suggesting a two way relationship.

82

soothsayer interprets the behaviour of an eagle (1949:

266-7), we correctly describe this as a divinatory

interpretation although under the Lowe and Blacker

definition it would be excluded because no information

was sought.

Further, our definition does not require the

information to be beyond the range of ordinary

understanding. Presumably Lowe and Blacker are

concerned with future events which cannot be known in

advance but when Xenophon went to Delphi he did not

ask, as Socrates had advised, whether he should join

the expedition to Persia, or what would happen if he

did, but to which gods he should sacrifice when he got

there. Xenophon had already decided to go and wanted

to know which gods would provide good fortune. This

is seeking a different type of information than that

suggested by the Lowe and Blacker definition.

What this suggests is that if one describes

astrology as „divination‟ there is a danger that

people will take a particular definition or

understanding of divination with which they are

familiar and apply that to astrology. If they do this

they are likely to question whether astrology really

is a form of divination and how useful such an

understanding is. However, what we mean by astrology

as divination is quite specific. It involves the

coming together of chart and context in a way that

enables astrologers, through the rules of astrology,

to provide relevant information about the context.

This understanding may be quite different to what is

involved in understandings of other divinatory

practices.

83

Understanding the Responsive Cosmos

It is not unusual to attempt to provide a

theoretical underpinning for the procedures and

techniques of astrology by starting with an

assumption of the way the world works and then

trying to show how the practice of astrology

conform to that understanding. For example, one

version of the neo-Platonic approach to astrology,

common within astrological circles, is to refer to

the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus, and the

words 'That which is below corresponds to that

which is above, and that which is above

corresponds to that which is below', which is

usually abbreviated to 'As above so below', to

explain why the configuration of the planets may

be expected to correlate with events on Earth.48

However, invariably, such theories break down

either because extant astrological procedures are

so diverse that they do not fit the framework or

because there is a lack of empirical evidence to

the support the contention that it really is the

case that 'As above so below'.

The opposite approach is taken to construct the

hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos. Instead of

promulgating a theory it considers the astrological

experience and what it is necessary to assume if one

is to account for those experiences. What is meant by

the astrological experience will be fully discussed in

48

Astrologers assume that these words refer to a unity between the microcosm and macrocosm

but Mather argues that it is likely to refer to the distillation of vapours in alchemy (2008: 54).

84

chapter five but essentially it consists of being a

participant when an astrologer makes a judgment which

is found to be pertinent. Significantly, as has

already been noted, the experience astrologers have of

astrology “working” is not denied by the scientific

researchers.

What constitutes an example of the experience of

astrology “working” is a matter which has not been

fully discussed within astrological literature.

However, examples can be found in chapters four

through seven of Phillipson‟s Astrology in the year

Zero, a critique of astrology as practiced in the year

2000, which includes a full discussion of the position

of the scientific researchers, as well as many

astrological text books which use examples of

astrology “working” in practice to illustrate

astrological techniques and rules.49 The example

horoscope delineated in the next chapter being such an

example.

From these examples of astrology “working” we can

make the following four points. The first is that as

empirical tests have shown no support for astrological

techniques and practices we cannot assume that these

examples of astrology “working” conform to natural

laws. Therefore, if we are to account for them,

instead of dismissing them as human judgment errors or

coincidences, we must assume that some agency or power

is involved which enables them to happen. That agency

is not human so it must be a non-human agency.

49

The use of example charts to illustrate particular astrological techniques goes back to Valens

and carries through to Lilly‟s Christian Astrology and through to the modern period. Olivia

Barclay‟s Horary Astrology (1994) being a good example.

85

The second conclusion we can reach is that this

non-human agency will be responding to enquiries made

by astrologers and will provide signs for astrologers

to read, if they choose. This is an empirical

requirement. Astrologers find that charts they

consider are relevant to matters they enquire about.

For example, the chart which will be delineated in the

next chapter was calculated for the moment a question

was asked. The astrological configuration that moment

produced provided pertinent guidance for the specific

matter raised. This was the result of an enquiry made

to the astrologer. There is nothing to suggest that

this process conforms to a natural law and, therefore,

if one is not to dismiss the occurrence as a human

judgment error or coincidence one must conclude that a

response has been received to the enquiry. However,

astrologers also find that astrology is “working” even

when no enquiry is made. For example, astrologers do

check the movement of the planets against their birth

charts and find those movements informative. These

transits are not asked for and can be understood as

signs provided by a non-human agency which are

available for interpretation.

The third conclusion that we can reach is that as

there are no natural laws supporting astrological

procedures the application of those procedures will

not always result in the expected way. Sometimes the

astrology will be wrong, or there may be no chart

which can be interpreted with confidence. This is

both a logical requirement and an empirical

requirement. It is a logical requirement because if

astrological procedures and techniques did always

86

perform in a predictable way they would conform to

natural laws, and an empirical requirement because the

experience of astrologers is that astrology does not

always work in accordance with past experience.

Within astrological circles Thorley has suggested

that the way to understand this is that the non-human

agency is "unbiddable". However, one can be

unbiddable but still be obliged to follow rules. My

banker is unbiddable, as I will discover if I want him

to do something which contravenes banking regulations,

but if I ask him to do something within those

regulations he will do so. Therefore, I prefer to say

the non-human agency is not guaranteed to provide any

sign which can be interpreted.

The fourth conclusion that we can reach is that

the non-human agency is not capricious. The agency

must be interested in responding to the enquirer, or

providing signs which can be read, in a manner that is

sufficiently reliable to make any guidance received

worth having. By this we do not mean to imply that

the agency wants to help us, nor do we mean to imply

any motive to the agency at all. What we mean is that

the agency is sufficiently reliable that the signs are

worth interpreting. We could not, for example, rely

on the Homeric gods. In Homer one might have a

dialogue with the gods, the gods may help and provide

signs, but they are capricious and we could not rely

on them for signs which are sufficiently consistent to

be worth interpreting. Instead, we would soon give up

asking for guidance and pay homage to avert disaster

and hope for the best. Essentially, we must assume

that the non-human agency is benevolent in nature,

87

even if the advice received may be difficult, and this

is not something that Homer seems to have believed.

As Roberto Calasso put it in his discussion of the

Greek myths, the gods “were as ready to defend the

unjust actions of a favourite as to condemn the just

actions of someone they disliked” (1993: 242).

If we are to account for astrological experiences,

without dismissing them, we must assume these four

factors: that a non-human agency is involved in the

astrological process; that it is an agency which is

essentially benevolent; that it will respond to

individual enquiries and provide signs which can be

interpreted; and that its involvement in an

astrological enquiry is not guaranteed. These four

factors are the only ones we need to assume.

These factors are all derived from the experience

of astrologers during the astrological process and

refer to an agency, one attribute that agency has and

two modes of behaviour. The term the Responsive

Cosmos tells us nothing else about that agency. That

the non-human agency involved could have more

qualities or powers or attributes, or could manifest

in the form of a greater power, agency or entity is

clear. Thus, the term the Responsive Cosmos is a

convenient wrapper for those factors which are

necessary for astrological divination but it tells us

nothing else about the non-human agency involved. It

is not, therefore, a representative term, referring to

a specific entity which exists in this form, holding

only those characteristics which we have specified,

but a term which refers only to those specific

88

characteristics necessary to account for astrological

experiences.

In his book Religious Experience (1985) Wayne

Proudfoot discusses the use of words as place holders

to stand in for other attributes which cannot be

described in words (1985: 127-133). He makes the

point that words acting as place holders have the

logical function of standing in for something which

cannot be described but also preclude other

descriptive terms. Thus, if God is ineffable one is

not only saying that God cannot be described but one

is preventing the attribution of other descriptive

terms. Therefore, instead of being a loose term to

describe the indescribable it is a precise term which

rules out other attributions. As Proudfoot tells us,

"It is an operator designed to achieve the result it

is supposed to describe. It is prescriptive and

evocative rather than descriptive or analytical"

(ibid: 129). According to Proudfoot , "Many of the

terms employed in the literature of the history of

religions to capture a universal feature of religious

experience or practice also appear to function as

placeholders" (ibid: 131).

It is informative to consider the Responsive

Cosmos in this way. It does not act as a place holder

in the same way as a term like ineffable, the

numinous, or the other terms that Proudfoot discusses,

but it does act as a place holder. The purpose of

providing a label like the Responsive Cosmos is not to

preclude further attributions because the agency has a

quality which precludes those attributions, like

ineffability, but because further attributions are

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unnecessary. The Responsive Cosmos is a wrapper round

an attribute thereof, and two modes of its behaviour

which are required for our hypothesis. The Responsive

Cosmos then acts as a place holder by precluding other

unnecessary attributes. Whatever agency, power or

entity is actually involved will (presumably) have

other attributes and modes of behaviour and the

Responsive Cosmos stands as a place holder for those

but the Responsive Cosmos does not demarcate what

those attributes and modes of behaviour might be.

Therefore, rather than being a representative term

the Responsive Cosmos is a term which evokes; it has

been chosen for several reasons. It emphasises that

the agency or power is living and that it responds to

individual enquiries. This allows the Responsive

Cosmos to be used as a term which can account for

other forms of divination involving living species and

opens up horizons beyond the dry image of an

astrologer pondering an astrological chart. It

attempts to avoid the image of a puppet master

manipulating a series of strings which bring together

astrological chart and context. A non-human agency

might be thought to imply one power, which takes

agency away from any animals or humans involved in the

divinatory process (for an example see Cicero‟s

criticism 1997: 194). However, there is no reason to

assume that any agent loses agency during the

divinatory process and such actions may form a part of

the overall response of the cosmos. Finally, it is

meant to evoke a sense of something beyond or larger

than oneself and to emphasise that the astrological

process is not simply an intellectual exercise. To

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use the label of a non-human agency would be possible

but the rest of this thesis will show why the term the

Responsive Cosmos is more appropriate.

The Origin of the Responsive Cosmos

Three ideas lie behind the characteristics of the

Responsive Cosmos and there is nothing new or unusual

about any of them. The first is that of a non-human

agency; the second is that the non-human agency is

benevolent; and the third is that the non-human agency

is sufficiently interested in the minutia of human

lives to offer signs or responses which can be

interpreted to obtain guidance.

The first idea has been with us throughout human

history and remains strong even in this so called

secular age. However, it is, perhaps, the hardest to

accept because the implication of putting forward a

hypothesis is that the hypothesis should be confirmed

through material test work or observation. Many

hypothesises involving non-human agencies cannot be

confirmed in this way because they involve the non-

material world of the spirit and, therefore, may be

viewed suspiciously. However, the fact remains that

there is nothing new or unusual in suggesting the

involvement of a non-human agency.

The second idea came into Greek thinking between

Homer and Euripides (approx 485-407 BCE) so that

Euripedes was able to write "If the gods do anything

that is ugly (or base), they are not gods!" (cited by

Eliade (1979: 261), from frag.292 of Bellerophon).

Since then the gods or God have usually been

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considered benevolent; even if they are awe inspiring

and apparently cruel in allowing evil to thrive in the

world the ultimate assumption is what He does is for

our benefit. One might argue that there are cases

where He is not benevolent - for example, with the

doctrine of predestination some may be damned from

birth - but counter examples do not change the

essential fact that for over two thousand years it has

generally been thought that the gods are benevolent.

The third factor, that the non-human agency is

interested in the minutia of human lives, was in Greek

thought with Homer, if not before. Man could not go

beyond his limits, or else would be destroyed by the

gods for hubris, and this led to emphasis on the

perfection of human lives (see Eliade 1979: 262).

This in turn led, according to Eliade, to the

"religious valorisation of the present" (ibid: 263).

If one valorises the present and one is religious then

one might be expected to believe that the gods are

interested in human lives because it is through those

lives, which are an expression of the present that

religious values can manifest. That the divine is

interested in our lives remains a central idea within

the Western tradition. Today we may choose to light a

candle in a church asking God to intercede on behalf

of a friend or family member.

There is nothing extraordinary in the ideas that

lie behind the Responsive Cosmos. It is a concept

compatible with many types of religious thought. For

example, "...Allah rules not only the cosmic rhythms

but also the works of men. All his acts are free, and

ultimately arbitrary, since they depend solely on his

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decision. Allah is free to contradict himself..."

(Eliade 1985: 78). There is nothing incompatible with

this conception of God and the Responsive Cosmos,

although the Responsive Cosmos assumes little by

comparison.

Cosmologies

For a cosmology to be compatible with the Responsive

Cosmos it will have to allow for two things: first,

for a non-human agency interested in the minutia of

human lives; and second, that there are no rules or

laws which the non-human agency must conform to. As

long as a cosmology allows for these two factors it

will be compatible with the Responsive Cosmos. In

most cases the first requirement will mean that the

cosmology must allow space for the spirit or for a

living cosmos with a consciousness of its own. This

would exclude any modern cosmology which sees the

universe in purely material terms. Cosmologies which

allow for the spirit or a living conscious cosmos will

be compatible with the Responsive Cosmos as long as

they fulfil our second requirement that they do not

lay down rigid rules which the Responsive Cosmos must

conform to. Paradoxically some of the cosmologies

which appear to be most amenable to divination and

astrology contain this inherent danger.

For example, one cosmology which has been amenable

to divination is the Chinese tradition in which a

system of correspondences between the microcosm and

macrocosm connect all things. This system in turn is

placed within the larger framework of the opposed but

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complementary principles of Yin and Yang. According

to Eliade this "general theory of analogies...has

played a considerable part in all traditional

religions" (1982: 17). It is a thought which played

an important part in neo-Platonic philosophy so that

for Plotinus all things are connected through

correspondences and this is his justification for the

efficacy of divination (1991: 2.3.7). Astrology,

which often relies on correspondences and analogies in

the application of its rules, can thrive under such

conditions.

The danger is that these correspondences between

the microcosm and the macrocosm become rigid natural

laws. If the non-human agency must conform to those

laws then the cosmology is incompatible with the

Responsive Cosmos. However, this incompatibility is a

problem for the cosmology rather than the concept of

the Responsive Cosmos because if these correspondences

cannot be shown empirically the cosmology will fail to

provide an adequate explanation of the way the world

works.

In reality it is unlikely that any of these

cosmologies were expected to work rigidly in practice,

even if the theory appears to be fixed. The stoics

believed that the cosmos is "a living being full of

wisdom" (cited by Eliade 1992: 207 from Stoicorum

veterum fragmenta, vol.1, nos.171 ff.; vol.2, nos.

441-44). This is in accord with the world implied by

the Responsive Cosmos but the stoics also believed

that life is fated and that one lives it out in

accordance with a predetermined plan. Such a rigid

philosophy is incompatible with the Responsive Cosmos

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but, as already mentioned, Greenbaum (2006) has shown

that Valens, who was a stoic, did believe that one

could in certain circumstances alter one's fate, and

we have already made the point that however rigid his

philosophy his astrological techniques are anything

but fated and must be applied in a flexible manner.

Thus, there is nothing in Valens' astrology which is

incompatible with the Responsive Cosmos even if his

philosophy would appear to be contradictory. The

issue of whether astrology is compatible with a

particular cosmology is quite separate to the issue of

whether astrologers can practise while accepting (in

theory) the tenets of that cosmology.

Other Concepts

It would be strange if there was another term exactly

like the Responsive Cosmos. This is not because it is

a new discovery which others have overlooked but

because it is a construction for a specific purpose.

The purpose is to provide a hypothesis which can

account for astrological experiences. This has never

been required before. Up until the Enlightenment

astrologers would try to show that their discipline

was compatible with the prevailing cosmology or

religion, while after the Enlightenment it was

important to show that it was compatible with the new

science of objective empirical tests. After forty

years of largely unsuccessful test work and within a

secular culture a new approach is required. The most

fruitful approach has been the development of

divinatory astrology by Cornelius and others and the

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Responsive Cosmos builds on that approach by

attempting to determine exactly what such an approach

must assume.

Many concepts used in religious studies are

concerned with the experience of the transcendent.

For example, Rudolf Otto's sense of the numinous (The

Idea of the Holy: 1923) and William James'

characterisation of the religious experience in terms

of the noetic, ineffability, transiency and passivity

(The Varieties of Religious Experience: 1994). These

are of interest to this thesis when, in chapter

seventeen, we discuss the sense of the numinous that

astrologers and clients often experience during an

astrological judgment. Similarly, scholarly debate on

the meaning of religious experience will inform the

discussion of astrological experience in chapter five.

However, these concepts are not the same as the

Responsive Cosmos. One has a dialogue with the

Responsive Cosmos, through the astrological process,

leading to an astrological experience which may result

in a sense of the numinous.

If the Responsive Cosmos were to be equated with

another concept it would be with the divine or some

other non-human agency, but we have purposely avoided

defining the Responsive Cosmos as any form of the

divine, or in specifying any additional attributes

that it might have, because the only attributes we

want to give it are those attributes which are

necessary if we are to account for astrological

experiences. As we will explain in the chapter five

astrological experiences are public. In contrast, a

sense of the numinous is an inner experience and, as

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we shall explain in chapter seventeen, cannot be used

to ascribe any particular quality to the Responsive

Cosmos. One might argue that this is a roundabout way

of saying that the Responsive Cosmos is ineffable but

to argue that would be an error. The Responsive

Cosmos has not been defined as ineffable so whether it

is ineffable or not will depend on factors which lie

outside the scope of this thesis.

Using the Responsive Cosmos

It is worth repeating what we have done. We have

taken four factors which are necessary to account for

the experiences that astrologers have. We have then

used the Responsive Cosmos as a wrapper to label those

four factors. However, since any agency or power may

have a great many additional characteristics, the

Responsive Cosmos, as well as being a wrapper for

those four factors stands as place holder for all the

unknown characteristics. We have nothing to say about

what those additional characteristics might be, but

other people may have something to say from their own

work in another discipline or their own personal

beliefs.

The disadvantage of defining the Responsive Cosmos

in this way is that it is not representational so that

when we say the Responsive Cosmos is involved in the

astrological process we mean that a non-human agency

is involved which among many factors has the

characteristics of the Responsive Cosmos. This may be

confusing but there are at several advantages in

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proposing a term to account for astral divination

which does not include anything extraneous.

First, the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos

provides a way of viewing astrology as divination

which removes a number of problems which confuses

those who have no experience of divinatory

disciplines. Thus, Tamsyn Barton tells us, when she

tries to apply the rules of Firmicus Maternus (fourth

century CE) and Dorotheus to the horoscope of Prince

Charles, that “Beginning as an ignorant novice, I took

the prescriptions of the books literally, as best as I

could” (1994: 134). This leads to the following

conclusion: “To any one question, a large number of

contradictory responses was available, and there were

no clues as to how to choose between them” (ibid:

142). Barton is assuming that astrology is a practice

which has, or should have, a set of fixed rules which

by following will lead to the right answer. However,

an astrology which assumes the Responsive Cosmos

cannot work like this because the Responsive Cosmos,

by definition, does not conform to rules. Instead, as

we shall see in the next chapter, it requires an

alternative methodology appropriate for a divinatory

discipline. In addition, as will be shown in chapters

fourteen through seventeen of this thesis, with the

assumption of the Responsive Cosmos, many of the

problems of astrology, including the apparent

contradictions of astrological techniques, are not a

concern. Therefore, any non-astrologer interested in

astrology, whether from an historical,

anthropological, or from any other point of view would

98

be advised to give some thought to the hypothesis of

the Responsive Cosmos.

Second, our definition of the Responsive Cosmos

allows us to determine what sort of world is necessary

for astrology, or divination through the reading of

signs, to take place. This is something which is

useful for scholars to be aware of whether or not they

accept the efficacy of either astrology or divination.

Indeed, as already mentioned some recent scholarly

studies are primarily interested in determining what

those engaged in divination do believe in (see

Johnston 2005 and 2005b). This approach is to be

welcomed because there will be a problem if one

applies one‟s own (possibly mistaken) ideas about

divination to another culture when there is no

evidence or reason to believe that the people of that

culture thought in those terms. For example, Eliade

tells us that in the Mesopotamia during the Akkadian

period:

All the techniques of divination pursued the

discovery of "signs," whose hidden meanings were

interpreted in accordance with certain

traditional rules. The world, then, revealed

itself to be structured and governed by laws.

If the signs were deciphered, the future could

be known; in other words, time was "mastered,"

for events that were to occur only after a

certain interval of time were foreseen" (1978:

83).

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One can accept that divination consisted of

interpreting signs in accordance with certain

traditional rules. However, to then say that the

world revealed itself to be structured and governed by

laws and that the diviners were trying to master time

seems most unlikely and reads like a modern theory of

divination transplanted onto the past. It is a view

which is incompatible with the Responsive Cosmos

because it assumes that divination is governed by

natural laws. Thus, it is a view which is both wrong,

because divination does not conform to natural laws –

if it did there would be empirical evidence to support

it - and assumes more than is necessary to account for

the behaviour of people in the Akkadian era.

Eliade tells us that extispicy and lecanomancy50

were the main forms of divination used during the

Akkadian period but he does not tell us what laws they

revealed and it is hard to envisage what laws the

actual practice of either could reveal. Eliade also

tells us that through rites and prayers the Akkadians

tried to obtain the blessings of the gods. If this is

the case then it seems much more likely that existpicy

and lecanomancy were expected to provide signs from

the gods which could then be interpreted. In this way

it would be possible to behave in accordance with the

wishes of the gods. The gods could only provide those

signs if one created a framework to which they could

respond, which is what the techniques of existpicy and

lecanomancy actually do. By responding the gods

behave as the Responsive Cosmos.

50

Extispicy is the examination of entrails while lecanomancy consists of pouring oil on water

and interpreting the signs of the shapes created by the two liquids.

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Equally, where there is evidence that there was a

belief in natural or divine laws underpinning

divination, a knowledge of what is actually required

for divination, as opposed to simply accepting that

natural or divine laws are required, will enable the

scholar to provide a fuller picture. Eliade tells us

that during the Hellenistic period "religiosity

displayed itself under the sign of the goddess Fortuna

(Tyche) and in astral fatalism" (1982: 362). It is

probably the philosophy of the stoics who, as Eliade

confirms, believed in both the efficacy of astrology

and a fixed fate which allows him to draw this

conclusion. This, however, is too simple. To obtain

a full picture of what is involved it is necessary to

consider the actual practice and that does not mean

what people claim that they did but what it would be

possible or likely for them to do.

From a practical point of view very few

astrological prognostications could have been made

which were fatalistic. In the vast majority of cases

an astrological prognostication will allow a client to

mitigate his or her fate. If a client is involved,

however fatalistic the advice might appear, one cannot

stop the client acting on the advice given. The only

way one could avoid the client from taking action in

accordance with the advice given would be to provide

information instead of guidance - 'you will be hit on

the head next Thursday'. One might believe that

astrologers should give information in this format,

and if they do not that they are trying to avoid

making a prognostication that can be falsified, but

this view assumes that divination is concerned with,

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or should be concerned with, providing information

that can be falsified. This, however, is a mistaken

view because it fails to understand that divination is

concerned with providing guidance from the gods.

It is also a position which fails to take into

account extant evidence of what sort of guidance

astrologers did provide, or misinterprets that

evidence so that it would appear to confirm the

position held. For example, it is a mistake to

consider this advice provided by a working astrologer

from Oxyrhynchos as fatalistic: "There are dangers.

Be on your guard for 40 days, because of Mars"

(Parsons 2007: 185-8). Quite the opposite: one is

expected to take care to mitigate the possible danger.

This statement could have come from an astrologer of

any era and the obvious question that would have been

asked in any era is 'what dangers?' The fact that

there is no further written record does not mean that

the astrologer and client did not discuss the possible

dangers from Mars so that the client could take

specific action.

In case of Hellenistic astral fatalism there is a

hierarchy involved which Eliade misses because he is

interested in the ideas lying behind divination rather

than the practice of divination. At the top of the

hierarchy are the Stoic philosophers with their

theory, which may stipulate a fated life; underneath

that is the practising astrologer, like Valens, who

has an astrological theory which allows for the

mitigation of one's fate in certain circumstances;

underneath that are the practical techniques which can

be interpreted in a flexible manner; and finally,

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there is the practice, about which there is much that

we cannot know because all we have are a few written

records. To provide a full picture of 'astral

fatalism' all four levels must be taken into account.

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos attempts to

provide an account of the bottom end of this hierarchy

and is therefore a useful concept for a scholar

concerned with the top end.

Third, by stripping away the unessential elements

of a theory of divination the Responsive Cosmos

enables scholars and other writers to be clear about

what is required or assumed in a world in which

divination through the reading of signs takes place.

We have already mentioned Barton (1994) who provides

an inadequate account of the work of the three

astrologers she discusses in detail.51 To provide two

further examples: both Robert Temple‟s Netherworld

(2002) and Michael Wood‟s The Road to Delphi (2003)

would, in my view, have benefited from an

understanding of what is necessary for divination

through the reading of signs. The former looks for

fixed rules which underlie the divinatory process

while the latter does not fully address the role of

the non-human agency.

Fourth, the Responsive Cosmos is a term which has

been pared down to provide the minimum requirements

for astral divination to occur. By removing

unnecessary assumptions it allows comparisons between

different ways that the non-human agency has been

conceived, even when those conceptions appear to be

51

Ptolemy, Dorotheus and Firmicus Maternus.

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contradictory. For example, the gods of Chrysippus

who provided signs for us to read (Cicero: 255) work

as the Responsive Cosmos, but so does the God of

Lilly's Christian Astrology (1647). For Lilly there

are no fixed rules, no rules or aphorisms which cannot

be broken or ignored in practice, if circumstances

suggest that this is appropriate, while all answers

are provided through the grace of God. Thus, in

certain respects He works in the same way as the gods

of Chrysippus, although the one God excludes (or

absorbs) the many gods. Equally, we can see the

Responsive Cosmos acting through the oracle of Ifa

described by Martin Holbraad52 and in the many methods

of African divination. Thus, by excluding unnecessary

characteristics under our Responsive Cosmos wrapper,

we can see how different concepts about spiritual

agencies can have similar characteristics.

These advantages remain whether one accepts the

efficacy of astrology or not. However, there is a

fifth advantage for those who accept that the world

does allow for divination. By stripping from the

concept everything which is unnecessary and by

attaching no particular cosmology or deity to it, we

are in a position to include other forms of divination

through signs, like augury, or patterns, like

alectryomancy,53 and to open up the possibility of a

connection with humans and the surrounding living

world and cosmos. What is implied is that the cosmos

lives and will arrange itself in its interaction with

humans, in such a way that it will be possible to

52

2003, 2004 ,2007, 2008. 53

Divination from the observation of birds pecking at grains.

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interpret this arrangement to obtain information which

can be used to guide a life in this world. It allows

for comparisons with the work of someone like David

Abram who believes in a living world in which even

land "expresses itself through the various events that

unfold there" (1996: 162). If land expresses itself

then, perhaps, it expresses itself by responding to

us. If the movement of birds and animals provide

signs from the cosmos which we can interpret, it these

movements respond to our queries or needs, then there

is the potential for a more involved dialogue between

ourselves and the Responsive Cosmos than might be

implied by an astrologer studying an astrological

chart. Other fields of investigation have been opened

up.

Conclusion

The Responsive Cosmos is a hypothesis put forward to

account for the astrological experiences which

astrologers have. What this entails for astrological

methodology will be discussed in the next chapter

while in chapter five it will be compared with other

main hypothesis that has been put forward - that

astrological experiences are the result of human

judgment errors. In chapters ten, eleven and twelve

astrological models which promulgate the view that

there are underlying laws which are able to account

for astrological experiences will be considered.

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Chapter four: Astrological Methodology

Introduction

Having outlined our hypothesis - that the practice of

astrology relies upon the involvement of the

Responsive Cosmos, it is necessary for us to consider

what methodology astrologers use in their practice.

The scientific researchers believe that astrology is a

failed science. They believe it is a failed science

because its methodology should rely on empirical

evidence but this evidence does not exist. That there

are problems with assuming astrology can be supported

by empirical evidence has already been shown in

chapter one. However, one of their points is that

without empirical support astrology can have no

coherent methodology so, before criticising their

position in detail, it is first necessary to show that

astrology has a coherent methodology which does not

rely on empirical test work.

Bird says of her experience of her own

astrological classes: “I don‟t think there was one

single astrological phenomenon whose meaning was

agreed upon in its entirety” (2006: 92). This, then,

is the problem: if astrologers do not always agree on

the meaning of an astrological phenomenon then how do

they make coherent interpretations?

In the next section I will provide an example of

astrology working which can be used to illustrate

astrological methodology and some of the points made

in later chapters of this thesis. The rest of the

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chapter will be concerned with astrological

methodology. The methodology suggested – the

methodology that astrologers seem to use – is the

methodology developed by Cornelius in The Moment of

Astrology, with certain refinements. Surprisingly,

few astrologers have written about astrological

methodology and we are indebted to his work for

providing a starting point. I will first detail this

methodology and provide an example of speculative

astrology; then I will put the methodology in its

historical and wider context, before adding my own

refinements. Finally, I will consider some of the

criticisms made by astrologers.

Example Chart – “Is there a house for me in the Lake

District?"

To illustrate astrological methodology it is

useful to provide an example of how astrology works in

practice. Therefore, in this section we will provide

an astrological example. This example chart will then

be used as a reference chart for future chapters.

One reason for using this example is that it is

simple and easy to follow. It also appears to

contradict a number of points which will be touched

upon in this thesis. The question seems to be about a

matter of utility that can only be answered “yes” or

“no”, but I will be arguing that astrology has little

to do with utility; it appears to be a question devoid

of any moral issue, but I will argue that astrology is

necessarily a moral process; it appears to be a form

of astrology which I will call (following Cornelius)

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speculative because it would seem to be possible to

read the chart with reference to a horary astrology

rule book, but I will argue that speculative astrology

is at best poor astrology and at worst worthless

astrology. However, as I hope will become clear, it

contradicts none of the points for which I will be

arguing.

This was a horary question, as defined above.

The question was “Is there a house for me in the Lake

District?” (19.56 GMT 11 Feb 2007, London. See

appendix). The querent had recently looked at two

houses in the Lake District. One she had liked but

had reluctantly decided was unsuitable. Since then

she had been poring over various internet property

sites but was in a certain amount of frustration and

despair because nothing which matched her requirements

seemed to be available.

It would have been possible to answer the

question in a simple manner by saying, “Yes, there is

a house for you in the Lake District.” The Moon, co-

significator of the querent, applies to a square with

Mercury, significator of the querent. That would be a

reason for saying yes. The Moon then moves to a

conjunction with Jupiter, ruler of, and fairly close

to the cusp of, the fourth house. Being ruler of the

fourth house, Jupiter is accidental ruler54 of houses

and the property sought in this horoscope and the

movement of the Moon to Jupiter is a strong reason for

saying yes. Ideally, the Moon would move straight to

54

Planets have natural signification owing to their nature and accidental rulership through house

rulership. The fourth house is significant for physical houses so Jupiter is accidental ruler of

houses in this horoscope.

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a conjunction with Jupiter without encountering

another planet first but as Mercury represents the

querent, it will not be an impediment. Detail could

then be added: “You will buy a house in just less

than seven weeks”. This information could be added

because the Moon is just less than seven degrees from

Jupiter and Jupiter represents the house.

This turned out to be a correct prediction and a

bid for a house was accepted six and a half weeks

later.

One could have left the judgment there but the

actual judgment provided involved a further

interpretation of both Jupiter and Mercury. One of

the meanings that Valens gives for Jupiter is a

“loosening of bonds”. Here Jupiter is significant for

the house, so we can suggest that for the querent an

important part of the house purchase will be that it

brings a sense of freedom from her current situation.

This, she confirmed, was the case and that gave

additional confidence to the judgment because Jupiter

is not a natural significator of houses but, as we

have said, is the accidental significator. Mercury is

badly placed in the sixth house, a cadent sign which

makes it weak. It is in the sign of its own fall and

detriment,55 which further debilitates it. This

describes the frustration and despair the querent was

feeling and was a good reason, among others, for

accepting that the chart was radical – that the

astrological symbols described the context. But three

days after the question was posed, Mercury would go

55

Planets are said to rule certain signs and to be exalted in certain signs. The sign opposite a

planet‟s rulership is its‟ detriment and the sign opposite its‟ exaltation its‟ fall.

109

retrograde. The advice given was to forget about

checking for properties until Mercury went direct

again, about three weeks later. When Mercury went

direct would be an appropriate time to start house

hunting seriously again. It is doubtful that the

querent followed this advice strictly but I know she

did not expect anything to happen when Mercury was

retrograde. A property was found when Mercury went

direct, visited, and a price quickly agreed.

Speculative and Realised interpretations

In The Moment of Astrology, Cornelius

distinguishes between what he calls “realised” and

“speculative” interpretations of the horoscope. A

speculative interpretation consists of reading a

horoscope by closely following the astrological

meanings provided by an astrological textbook, or, as

Cornelius puts it elsewhere in relation to oracles, a

“rational inference drawn from omens and oracles”

(2010: 32). Thus, an astrological textbook might give

several different possible meanings for “Mars in

Cancer in the twelfth house”, the astrologer would

choose one of them and this interpretation might be

useful for the client in understanding the matter

being looked at. This is a speculative

interpretation. A realised interpretation goes beyond

a speculative interpretation in that the astrologer

will “know” – almost sense - that a particular

astrological symbol fits the context being considered

and that symbol has “an absolute and undeniable

quality to it”; often, accompanying this “knowing”,

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“there appears to be some emotional effect attending

realisation of the symbol” (2003: 293). The

astrologer will know that the interpretation has been

“realised” because he/she “is now participating in

that knowing” (ibid: 295). In his thesis surveying

divination in general Cornelius defines it “as

inspired non-inferential non-discursive „knowing‟ of

omens and oracles often attended by a distinctive

emotional affect” (2010: 31). This process of moving

from speculative to realised interpretation “involves

a complex process of negotiation. We negotiate

between the two poles of realised and speculative

interpretation, trying this and then that take until

we hit upon the „real‟ symbolism and we „see‟ what

this or that factor „means‟” (2003: 294).

What I take Cornelius to be saying is that there

is no system for determining how one chooses one

particular meaning for a planet over another

meaning.56 There are astrological rules that the

astrologer will follow but ultimately there has to be

an interpretation and that interpretation will be

context-driven. The astrologer will try to see what

fits best but will only be sure that he/she has chosen

the right interpretation when he/she sees that the

astrological symbolism fits the context. The

horoscope will come alive and he/she will “know” that

this interpretation is correct. As Cornelius points

out, if one assumes a:

56

Schmidt, in his work on Hellenistic astrology, is beginning to suggest ways that one might be

able to reduce the number of possible meanings a planet might have in a particular configuration.

However, even if he is successful in doing this, how that particular meaning might be applied

will be context-driven.

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‟top down‟ axiomatic approach to „the rules of

astrology‟, infinite interpretation points to

the impossibility of deciding exactly how an

astrological doctrine or a particular element

of symbolism might manifest in the practically

limitless array of possible ways” [that an

astrological symbol] “could show itself in

real life”. [Thus, the astrologer] “will

flounder until he sees that the symbolism

working, and the primary moment of seeing it

working is the recognition of the true fitness

of signification in the unique and particular

case (2005: 107).

For Cornelius this recognition “is comparable to an

aesthetic appreciation” (ibid). The term aesthetics

was first introduced by Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten

in his Reflections on Poetry (1954), originally

published in 1775, specifically to distinguish between

the knowledge involved when one is studying poetry and

the knowledge involved when one is studying logic.

The aesthetic sense is that something we cannot easily

describe but can understand and recognise. As

Wittgenstein says, it "is not corroborated by

experience or by statistics as to how people react”

(1966: 21).

For Cornelius this is “the moment of astrology”

and although, as we shall see, it will not necessarily

occur in this paradigmatic way described by Cornelius,

many of the most successful astrological judgments

will conform to it, and it will become, in this

thesis, an important criterion for comparing different

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astrological perspectives, so it is worth being clear

about what we mean. What we are saying is that the

moment of astrology occurs when the astrologer “knows”

the astrological symbol and realises it by placing it

in the context of the matter being considered. This

process involves the following: first, the context;

second the signification for the astrological symbol

which has been derived from the rules and tradition of

astrology; and third, something internal to the

astrologer (which Cornelius compares to an aesthetic

sense) when the astrologer “knows” that the right

meaning has been found.

When this occurs, the astrological symbols will

describe the matter being looked at and the

information provided will be relevant to the matter

being considered. The divinatory astrologer assumes

that the Responsive Cosmos is involved in the process

and it is this involvement which provides a reason to

take the information provided seriously and not to

dismiss it as fantasy or to ignore it all together.

In this process both the subjective and the

objective are involved: the subjective, because what

matters is the astrologer “knowing”, and the

objective, because this knowing is dependent, in part,

on the context and the astrological rules, which are

objective to the astrologer. Therefore, if an

astrologer makes an interpretation, one cannot deny

that the astrologer knows the symbol (see Wittgenstein

1966: 42), or even that he/she has realised the

symbol, if this is the claim, but one can criticise

the astrologer for failing to produce an apt meaning

for the astrological symbol, because that meaning is

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dependent not only on the astrologer but also on both

the rules and tradition of astrology and the context

of the matter being looked at.

This is why Mather‟s argument, when he says that

Cornelius “sees faces in the clouds and expects us to

believe it is the miraculous power of demons” (2008:

56), fails, because the interpretations are not

arbitrary “faces in the clouds” but determined, in

part, both by the context and the rules of astrology

and open for all to read. Indeed, what is striking

about the astrological interpretation is that all

competent astrologers will be able to recognise how

intricately the symbols describe the context; if the

symbols do not describe the context then the

interpretation can be criticised on that basis.

Indeed, the meaning of an astrological symbol must, in

part at least, be context-driven: if you see Saturn

(problems) in the fifth house (children) in the natal

chart of a thirty-year-old woman, you might interpret

that as “issues concerned with conception”, but –

obviously - you would not say that for the same

configuration in the birth chart of a ten year old

boy.

It might be argued that if astrological symbols

are multivalent then they can always be made to fit

the context and the astrology will always be seen to

work. However, this is not the case at all. If the

fit between symbol and context is strained then it

will be subject to criticism by other astrologers who

can say that it is not a good fit; while the context

itself, and the rules of astrology, will often prevent

an arbitrary application of the symbol. In our

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example chart, the choice of astrological symbol is

determined to a large extent by the astrological rules

for horary astrology. It is conventional to take the

ruler of the Ascendant to be significant for the

querent, the Moon as the co-significator, and the

ruler of the fourth house as significant for the house

sought. One then looks at the symbolism of these

planets – taken from an astrological textbook (or

one‟s own experience) – to see how they describe the

context. Thus, although the symbols are multivalent,

much is determined by both the astrological rules and

the context and it is always possible, certainly in

horary astrology, to say that the symbols do not fit

the context and therefore the chart cannot be judged.

It might be argued that this is not the case for

birth charts because the astrological tradition holds

that birth charts are always fit to be judged and one

will simply find the “best fit” symbol. However, even

for birth charts this methodology is not arbitrary for

at least three reasons: first, certain astrological

configurations will, in accordance with the tradition,

be considered more powerful than others; second, the

context and the concerns of the client will help to

determine the meanings; and third, if the fit of

symbol to context is not apt, it will always be

possible for the astrologer to say that they are

unable to judge this particular facet of a life.57

Symbols may be multivalent and it may be, as Jung

says, that “whether a thing is a symbol or not depends

57

Given that a life is a complex matter and an astrological reading, or interpretation, relatively

brief, no astrologer will able to cover everything that that could be relevant, so some sort of

selection in a life reading is inevitable.

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chiefly upon the attitude of the consciousness

considering it” (Jung Psychological Types (1921),

cited from Hyde 1992: 69) but it does not follow from

this that criticism of the use of symbols is

impossible. Oakeshott has this to say on symbolic

languages:

In a symbolic language metaphor is and remains

a symbol. It may be a rhetorical expression

designed to capture attention or to relieve

(or to increase) the tension of an argument,

or it may even be used in the interest of

greater precision; but on all occasions it

merely recognises and makes use of natural or

conventional correspondences, and the aptness

of the equivalence invoked is the condition of

its effectiveness (1991: 528).

Oakeshott is speaking of poetry but what he says

applies to astrology as well. The language of

astrology uses both correspondences and metaphors

handed down by the astrological tradition with the aim

of providing guidance which is effective. It is

possible to do this well or badly depending on the

aptness of the symbol. We can say that the “knowing”,

in certain circumstances, is a poor form of “knowing”

which is not apt because the knowing of an

astrological symbol is, in part, dependent on the

employment of the astrological tradition. If one is

aware of the tradition, one cannot “know” a symbol

whose meaning does not conform to it in the same way

as a symbol whose meaning does conform to it (even if

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it is possible for a symbol to have a meaning which

does not come from the tradition). For example, in

our example chart one might “know” that Jupiter is

significant for the house sought because it rules the

fourth house which is significant for houses and the

signification of “loosening of bonds” is apposite to

the context. But one could not “know” that the Sun is

significant for the house sought in the same way

because there is no astrological reason to think that

it is significant for the house. It is not the case

that “anything goes” in a symbolic language – even in

poetry, the symbol has to be appropriate if the poem

is to satisfy.

It is worth repeating the methodology being used:

one places an astrological symbol in a given context

and tries the various meanings it has, drawn from the

rules and traditions of astrology, which are

appropriate to that context, until one “knows” that a

particular meaning is the “right” one. When

sufficient astrological symbols are grounded in the

context, it becomes possible to provide an

interpretation that goes beyond reading from a list of

meanings drawn from an astrological textbook; it

becomes guidance from the Responsive Cosmos.

An example of a speculative astrological

interpretation

One difference between a speculative interpretation

and a realised interpretation is that in a speculative

interpretation there may be little or no attempt to

place or ground the astrological symbols in the

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context. Sometimes this is because the context is so

distant or vague that the astrologer is unable to

ground the astrological symbols. For example, a

common practice for astrologers is to comment on what

will happen to society in general when an outer planet

enters a new sign of the zodiac. The astrologer is

only one small component part of society so the

predication will often be speculative. Alternatively,

the astrologer might be following a particular system

that has its own rules for determining how to choose a

particular astrological meaning, so grounding the

astrological symbol in the context becomes

unnecessary. At other times, one might be producing a

general “character” report so that there is no

detailed context in which to ground the symbols.

The problem with astrological interpretations that

do not attempt to ground the symbols in the context

is that they can become vacuous. As Curry says:

There is a considerable difference between the

merely thematic kind of astrology that often

passes for its practice today, in which the

subject is acquainted in a more-or-less

general way with the psychological „themes‟ of

his or her life, and the kind of metic

precision that is possible with a really

skilled astrologer (Willis and Curry 2004:

112).

When one tries to ground a symbol in the context,

one is assuming that, through the process of “knowing”

the symbol, guidance will be obtained from the

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Responsive Cosmos, and that one interprets the

horoscope in order to obtain this guidance. In

contrast, the speculative interpreter makes no attempt

to “know” the symbol and, consequently, has no reason

to assume the involvement of a responsive cosmos. If

the information does not derive from a responsive

cosmos, it must be obtained from another source and

the hidden assumption is that this source is a natural

law. However, as empirical evidence does not exist

for these natural laws, the speculative interpretation

is based on nothing and, consequently, is worthless.

The October-Novemember 2008 member letter of the

NCGR provides an example. There were seven

astrological predictions for the forthcoming

Presidential election between Obama and McCain. There

was a context - the Presidential election - but none

of the astrologers was closely involved in the

campaign. Each astrologer made an astrological

judgment by choosing his/her preferred technique and

applying that technique to either the birth charts of

the candidates or some other preferred chart, such as

the chart of the Presidential inauguration, or the

chart for the USA. From the perspective of a

divinatory astrologer, these predictions could never

hope to be a success. There was no “knowing” of a

symbol, nor could there be, because the context was

too far removed from the astrologer. This was

speculative astrology. Instead of attempting to

ground the astrological symbols in the context there

was an attempt to weigh up the various factors which

were positive for a candidate and the various factors

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which were negative for the candidate in order to

reach a firm conclusion.

Essentially what is wrong with such an inquiry,

from the divinatory perspective, is the approach. The

astrologers knew that there was no empirical evidence

for the techniques they chose to use but they still

used them presumably under the mistaken belief that if

their prediction was correct it would be evidence that

their technique was the “right” one. Thus, their

astrology became a purely mechanical process based on

a mistaken idea of what astrology is and what it can

do. These astrologers are all skilled and I have no

doubt that, when consulting with clients, they all

attempt to ground the astrological symbols in the

context of their client‟s lives and do “realise” the

symbols in the manner we have outlined above.

However, because they have an idea that astrology is

some sort of quasi-mechanical-empirical system, they

approached the Presidential election in a completely

different way - a way that has no hope of succeeding

because a correct prediction would prove nothing. But

astrologers continue to make these predictions, the

successful predictions being countered by the

unsuccessful ones, leading any lay critic to conclude

that astrology is worthless. Here Mather is correct

because this approach does border on fantasy.58

58

It might be argued that against this that contest astrology has a long history and one might

point to the work of, say, Sahl (1st half of 9

th century CE) and Bonatti (although none of the

seven astrologers who made these Presidential predictions used the techniques of Sahl and

Bonatti). However, Sahl and Bonatti give the first house to their party and the seventh house to

the opposition. This shows two things: first, that they are engaged with one side, the side which

pays them or asks them a question, and there is an opposition, so there is participation; and

second, that since another astrologer working for the opposition and following exactly the same

procedure would give the first house to their party and the seventh house to the party of Sahl and

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For the record, of the seven predictions made,

four were for McCain and three for Obama. The

editorial of that newsletter tells us that “because

neither Obama nor McCain seems much stronger that the

other, analysis has proven to be rather inconclusive”.

This for an election which was predicted correctly in

advance by every poll and virtually every political

commentator; had one asked seven people in the street,

it is likely that all seven would have said Obama

would win the election. To most people the position

of the candidates prior to the election was anything

but inconclusive. In this case, the astrological

interpretations were worse than useless.

Historical Context

Cornelius does not specifically mention hermeneutics

in his discussion of realised and speculative

astrological interpretations but is likely that the

development of this methodology has been informed by

his interest in the subject. According to David

Linge, in his introduction to his translation of Hans-

Georg Gadamer‟s Philosophical Hermeneutics (1977),

“its field of application is comprised of all those

situations in which we encounter meanings that are not

immediately understandable but require interpretive

effort” (xii). Linge does not have an astrological

interpretation in mind but one does not have to move

his understanding far to apply it to the astrological

interpretation.

Bonatti, reaching the same conclusion but with a different winner, that this sort of astrology is

not, and cannot be, a system.

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Wilhelm Dilthey extended F.D.E Schleiermacher‟s

method of interpreting Christian texts to the whole of

the humanities because he wanted to create a

theoretical framework for the study of man. For

Dilthey the scientific model of knowledge was unable

to capture our attitude to other people. He developed

the concept of verstehen, or understanding, in which

one would try to conceptualise the world from the

point of view of another agent and during the process

our senses would recognise some inner content which

would form our interpretation (1976: 249). Roger

Scruton puts it as follows; “In short, we are not

merely in dialogue with each other; we are in dialogue

with the world itself, moulding the natural order

through concepts, so as to align it with our aims.

Our categories do not explain the world, so much as

endow it with meaning” (2002: 269).

Gadamer opens up the scope of philosophical

hermeneutics so that “its task is the opening up of

the hermeneutical dimension in its full scope, showing

its fundamental significance for our entire

understanding of the world and thus for all the

various forms in which this understanding manifests

itself” (1977: 18). Again, like Linge, Gadamer does

not mention divination but if information derived from

divination manifests as a particular understanding of

the world then it too is subject to a hermeneutical

dimension. The sense of dialogue mentioned by Scruton

is developed by Gadamer in Truth and Method (1975) in

which, to use Linge‟s words, “the process of

understanding that culminates in the fusion of

horizons has more in common with a dialogue between

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persons or with the buoyancy of a game in which the

players are absorbed than it has with the traditional

method of a methodologically controlled investigation

of an object by a subject” (Godamar 1997: xix-xx). By

horizons what is meant is our own perspective with

which we are familiar and the perspective of another

agent which is alien to us. These are fused in a new

understanding through a process which is more akin to

a dialogue or game than a prescribed method for

choosing a particular meaning.

We can immediately see the similarity between this

and Cornelius‟ back and forth between realised and

speculative interpretations until one finds the

interpretation that fits the context. For Cornelius

one will “know” that one has found the correct

interpretation and for Dilthey an „inner sense‟ was

involved, while for Jean Grodin, in his Introduction

to Philosophical Hermeneutics, (1994), “it is the

inner dialogue of the soul that constitutes

understanding” (ibid: 143).

In part hermeneutics is the study and development

of methodologies appropriate for the interpretation of

texts and the humanities in general, in order to

provide a fuller understanding than is provided by the

methodology of empirical science. Given that we have

argued that astrology is not a science, and that any

study of it should include Toulmin‟s four lost

insights of the humanists, a hermeneutic approach to

an astrological interpretation is appropriate.

Dilthey‟s approach assumed that the text being

interpreted, or human activity being studied, was both

meaningful and capable of communicating meaning (1976:

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9) while Gadamer, with his development of dialogue,

pre-supposes that the conversationalists are

“concerned with a common subject matter – a common

question – about which they converse” (1977: xx).

When one applies hermeneutics to astrology one

broadens the horizon and assumes that the Responsive

Cosmos has brought together astrology and context in a

way that will enable the astrology to provide relevant

guidance. If this is assumed then it follows that the

astrology has meaning and that one is in a dialogue

with the Responsive Cosmos with the common end of

providing relevant guidance.

Thus, the assumption Cornelius makes is the

assumption of the Responsive Cosmos bringing together

chart and context in a way that can provide meaning.

That remains the occult or esoteric assumption on

which the astrological process rests. The method of

making an astrological interpretation, however, is no

different from the method of making an historical

interpretation or any other interpretation appropriate

to the humanities. It consists of dialogue in which

one tries to understand what the other

conversationalist is trying to say so that one can

achieve the common goal; a common goal one will reach

when one “knows” that one has found the appropriate

meaning.

The wider context

Given that the hermeneutic approach is appropriate for

the humanities, and we have been arguing that

divination is a humanity and not a science, it should

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not be surprising that a similar methodology can be

found in other forms of divination.

Anthropologist Susan Reynolds Whyte describes

divination among the Nyole of Eastern Uganda, in which

both diviner and client enter into a “divinatory

dialogue” through which they try to interpret the

information received from the spirits. This dialogue

will always consider the quality of the information

received from the spirit and the diviner will ask the

client confirmatory questions such as “Is this true?”

and “Am I right?” (Whyte 1991: 165-6). Like the

methodology for divinatory astrology it is context-

driven, it uses “divinatory dialogue” and a back and

forth conversation between diviner and client as they

try to make an interpretation appropriate the context

which is assumed to be guidance from the divine beings

or spirits.

Similarly, anthropologist Rosalind Shaw describes

the practice of the Temne diviner of North Central

Sierra Leone, when casting river pebbles. The diviner

uses “river spirits” to interpret the pattern of the

cast stones, but, according to Shaw, the “crucial part

is the diviner‟s perception of the relationship

between the microcosm of the stones and the wider

reality of the client‟s own predicament” (Shaw 1991:

147). Here the pattern of the stones is the

equivalent of the astrological symbolism, and the

diviner interprets what the river spirits are saying

about the client‟s predicament through the pattern

formed by the stones. Clearly, the diviner will have

to weigh up different possible interpretations in

light of that client‟s predicament; the point being

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that the interpretation cannot be made without knowing

the predicament and it will be necessary to go back

and forth between interpretation and predicament until

an interpretation which fits is found.

It is the same with Holbraad‟s work, which will be

considered in more detail later, in which we find the

Ifa diviners of Cuba choosing from a number of myths

and relating those myths to their client‟s own

personal history through a divinatory dialogue (2008).

All the examples involve divinatory dialogues;

there is a back and forth as those involved in the

process try and find an interpretation appropriate to

the context. This is the same process we find in

philosophical hermeneutics. The difference is that

the Responsive Cosmos is involved so one of the poles

is on Earth and the other in a non-material realm. As

Bird, whose ethnographic study places astrologers

within this divinatory tradition, puts it: “… she is

betwixt and between worlds, occupying that threshold

area from which diviners across space and time have

ever spoken” (2006: 94).

Refinement

Most astrologers will understand what Cornelius means

when he describes the “realisation” of an

interpretation in which an “emotional effect” may be

involved. Other astrologers might borrow Otto‟s term,

the numinous, when the astrology and context resonate

and all involved know that something special is

occurring. However, few astrologers would claim that

they experience the numinous or have an emotional

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effect every time they examine a horoscope. Indeed,

some astrologers may wonder if they ever actually

“realise” an interpretation. They may think they have

simply followed the rules of astrology and made a

judgment without any “knowing” at all.

I would suggest that what actually matters is that

the astrologer uses his or her experience and

knowledge of astrology to make an active choice of

what meaning to choose for a particular astrological

symbol and not to follow a pre-determined set of

rules. This might be described by Cornelius as

“knowing”, Bird as “got it”, Thorley‟s interviewee as

“where the symbolism started to live” (2006/7: 18) and

others as “just did it”. The “just did it” for some

people may be the equivalent of “knowing‟ or “got it”

for other people.

This “got it” or “just did it” is recognised by

most philosophers as a legitimate way of obtaining

knowledge. Grondin, in his discussion of Gadamer‟s

work, refers to Helmholtz‟s Heidelberg lecture of 1862

in which he says that the humanities arrive at

knowledge “by employing something like a psychological

sense of tact” (1994: 108) and it is on this idea,

that the humanities involve a different method of

obtaining knowledge, that Gadamer builds‟ his work.

This sense of psychological tact is the same as the

knack which for Toulmin forms part of metic knowledge

that will be discussed in more detail in chapter

sixteen. It is that indefinable something one uses

when making a judgment, or a decision, which comes out

of one‟s experience and knowledge. Isaiah Berlin

describes it as follows:

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We resort to metaphors. We speak of some

people as possessing antennae, as it were,

that communicate to them the specific contours

and texture of a particular political or

social situation. We speak of the possession

of a good political eye, or nose, or ear, of a

political sense which love or ambition or hate

may bring into play, of a sense that crisis

and danger sharpen (or alternatively blunt),

to which experience is crucial, a particular

gift, possibly not altogether unlike that of

artists or creative writers (cited in Toulmin

2001: 181).

Berlin goes on to say, “We mean nothing occult

or metaphysical; we do not mean a magic eye able to

penetrate into something that ordinary cannot

apprehend; we mean something perfectly ordinary,

empirical, and quasi-aesthetic in the way it works”

(ibid). The “just did it” of an astrologer, when

he/she makes an interpretation, should be viewed in

this way. It comes out of the experience and

knowledge of the astrologer but it is not occult and

can be learned by all.

Thus, interpreting an astrological chart does not

involve a specific state of “knowing” but a process of

trying to place the astrological symbols in the

context in order to realise the symbols. The moment

of realisation may be described in a variety of ways

but there is nothing occult about it. One will become

more comfortable making an astrological interpretation

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the more symbols that have been realised but it is

possible for there to be both realised and speculative

elements within the same interpretation. We can

illustrate this, along with other parts of the

interpretive process, with reference to our example

chart.

The ruler of the Ascendant, Mercury, representing

the querent, is poorly placed in the sixth house and I

think, „Yes, that describes the querent.‟ The fourth

house, significant for the house sought, is ruled by

Jupiter, fairly close to the cusp of the fourth house,

but I think, „Jupiter is not a natural significator of

houses‟ and wonder what that means. An understanding

of Jupiter that I have, through my reading of Valens,

is that Jupiter is significant for a “loosening of

bonds”, which I know, through dialogue with the

querent, is appropriate for her who will see the house

partly in terms of freedom, and I start to feel more

confident – or “know”- that this horoscope is

providing a clear answer.

An ideal horary horoscope would have Mercury,

significator of the querent, applying to Jupiter,

significator of the house, but this will not happen

because Mercury is about to go retrograde. However,

the Moon does apply to Mercury and will then apply to

Jupiter, and as the Moon also provides positive

answers I am comfortable about making a positive

judgment. The retrograde movement of Mercury suggests

that the buying of the house will not happen

immediately and I use the movement of Mercury to

provide guidance to the querent on how to act. The

association of Mercury with the actual behaviour of

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the querent provides a sense of wonder, which one

might want to describe as a sense of numinous, that

this matter – small and unimportant in the greater

scheme of things - has been taken up by the responsive

cosmos and an answer provided.

The last part of the interpretation is the timing

based on the movement of the Moon to Jupiter. This is

speculation. It is taken from a rule book and it is

not possible to “know”, but I am comfortable in making

the prediction because the balance of the horoscope

has been “realised”. What I have done here is to

follow Hyde‟s advice: “Equations between the client‟s

world and the chart symbols are made in order to

establish the astrologer‟s confidence that he or she

is working with the appropriate symbol” (1992: 97).

Five things are clear from this analysis. The

first is that even in a relatively simple question

there are several astrological symbols to take into

account, so it likely that some will appear to fit the

context better than others and that there will be

degrees of realisation for the different symbols. The

second is that, if one is successful in grounding some

of the astrological symbols in the context one will

have the confidence to extrapolate from this with some

of the other astrological symbols although these

interpretations will be more speculative. The third

is that the sense of “knowing” could have been

described in many different ways; it was not a mental

state that I had to achieve in order to make a

judgment (as if entering a shamanic trance) but a

growing conviction that I was making the right

judgment because the symbols were describing the

130

context. The fourth is that the sense of the numinous

I had was a result of the interpretative process and

that it would have been possible (albeit without the

greater confidence it gave me) to have made the

judgment without a sense of the numinous. And fifth

and last, that this judgment had little to do with any

intuition on my part and much more to do with the

application of fairly well-known astrological rules.

There was no thunderbolt from above to help the

process.

Astrological thinking

We have tried to make it clear that an astrological

interpretation or judgment is no different in

principle than interpretations or judgments in other

disciplines, certainly the humanities, or other walks

of life. Obviously, different factors are involved;

one has to interpret symbols in accordance with a

particular tradition, and one will be providing a

particular kind of explanation on the matter being

considered, but the actual process of making a

judgment on a particular matter is no different.

All judgments are based on certain factors which

come from within the area or discipline the judgment

is concerned with but ultimately the person making the

judgment will have to make a choice between different

alternatives. If the decision is not clear-cut then

something indefinable is likely to be involved in the

decision making process; we might describe that

indefinable quality as knack, intuition, gut instinct,

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business instinct, astrological instinct or simply,

“just doing it”.

Oakeshott, in his essay “The study of „politics‟

in a university” says:

What a university has to offer is not

information but practice in thinking; and not

practice in thinking in no manner in

particular but in specific manners each

capable of reaching its own characteristic

kind of conclusions. And what undergraduates

may get at a university, and nowhere else in

such favourable circumstances, is some

understanding of what it is to think

historically, mathematically, scientifically

or philosophically, and some understanding of

these not as „subjects‟, but as „living

languages‟ and of those who explore and speak

them as being engaged in explanatory

enterprises of different sorts (1991: 197).

I would suggest that thinking astrologically and

making appropriate astrological judgments is in

principle no different to any of the above.

Criticisms from Astrologers

Cornelius‟ methodology has not, as far as I am aware,

been criticised within astrological circles. In part

this is because there is almost no discussion of

astrological methodology within the astrological

community. The one exception to this is the article

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on Jean-Baptise Morin de Villefranche (1583-1656) by

Penny Seator. Seator tries to show that Morin's

seventeenth century rationalisation of astrology

"relies for its predictive capacity on a comprehensive

method of determination that incorporates stable

principles and rules used in a structured approach

that rests on astrological theory" (2008/9: 14).

However, this attempt breaks down and she is forced to

admit that "The social, cultural and personal context

in which an astrological chart operates importantly

determines its meanings and operation" (ibid: 39).

Seator does not mention Cornelius‟ work but whatever

method Morin and others use for determining meaning is

likely to be similar to the method detailed above.

The criticisms considered in this section,

therefore, are not criticisms of Cornelius‟

methodology but of divinatory astrology. The

astrologers who make them appear to have given little

thought to what it is they actually do when they

practice astrology, which undermines the effectiveness

of their criticisms, but some interesting points come

out.

Broadly there are three types of criticism. The

first was made by Addey back in 1982 in which he

complains that some astrologers “think that to

interpret a horoscope one had only to pick it up and

hold it in one‟s hands or press it to one‟s forehead

for the interpretation to spring into one‟s mind!”

(1982: 43), as opposed to a full and detailed analysis

of the chart based on the rules and principles of

astrological symbolism. It should be clear that Addey

has a different understanding of divination and that

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his criticism has no impact on our position. Our

hypothesis is that the divinatory element is the

Responsive Cosmos bringing chart and context together.

The interpretation one makes is like any

interpretation and if it is to be adequate must be

based on the rules and principles of astrological

symbolism.

The second group of criticisms concerns the

reluctance of astrologers to admit the involvement of

the Responsive Cosmos. Some astrologers even fail to

recognise the divine part of “divinatory” in

Cornelius‟ work, although Cornelius is clear that

divinatory astrology is concerned with the “will of

divine beings”. For example, in a recent article

Brian Taylor describes the approach of Cornelius and

others as “Postmodern approaches that treat the

horoscope as a hermeneutic matrix, and astrology as a

dialogue involving mystery and uncertainty rather than

an empirical exercise” (2009). But if one does not

recognise that Cornelius is attempting to interpret

“the will of divine beings”, one has misunderstood his

argument. Astrologers who are reluctant to admit the

involvement of the Responsive Cosmos fall into two

groups which are not mutually exclusive. The first

group consists of astrologers who prefer to think that

their subject is rational and intellectual and does

not involve a Responsive Cosmos. This preference is

made clear by Bird (2006: 90-101). The second group

consists of those astrologers who consider their

subject to be purely psychological: a psychological

approach, they argue, does not require a divinatory

approach (see Greene 2008).

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It should be clear that the interpretation can be

as intellectual and rational as one likes, or as

psychological as one likes, as long as it conforms to

the broad parameters of what is appropriate for an

interpretation within the humanities. However, what

these astrologers fail to address is the reason that

we have postulated our hypothesis. We have postulated

the existence of the Responsive Cosmos because there

is no empirical evidence for astrology and we want to

provide an account of astrological experiences. An

account in purely rational terms – understood here as

excluding any factor which cannot be supported by

formal logical or empirical evidence – cannot be

provided in the absence of empirical support, while a

purely psychological account falls into the category

of satisfaction in which the whole astrological

experience can be understood in terms of the

subjective psyche and the inadequacies of that will be

discussed in the next chapter.

The last group of criticisms involves what is

known within astrological circles as “the middle way”.

A number of astrologers have realised that there is

insufficient empirical evidence to support

astrological rules and techniques. However, being

reluctant to jettison the hope of empirical support

they propose a “middle way” in which astrology is a

combination of objective factors and divination.

Thus, McDonough, who has been heavily involved in

astrological research and believes in the existence of

archetypes says, “I think astrology is at least 50%

divination. I believe that the archetypes are so

wide, that the only way you can deal with it is to

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have strong divination abilities” (Phillipson 2003:

40).59 In this view McDonough has the support of Roy

Gillett, who argues that “there are patterns of

planetary cycles and associations that can be forecast

with impeccable accuracy” but that “specific outcomes

of these cycles” are “problematic”. He suggests that

there is a “middle way” and that research should

concentrate on defining “the range of variables”

(2006: 68-69).

Those who argue for the “middle way” have not

thought through what their position entails. On the

one hand we have the rules of astrology and on the

other hand we have the application of those rules. To

say, as McDonough does, that astrological archetypes

are so wide that we need „divination‟ to choose

between them is little better than nonsense.

McDonough does not say what divination consists of but

presumably he means some sort of intuition. If one

must intuit the specific archetypal meaning then it

does not matter whether the archetypal categories are

wide or narrow because what matters is the method of

intuition. If the archetypal meaning one intuits is

not contained in the archetypal category one would

simply widen the category so that it is included. If,

however, one understands divination as we have defined

it – simply the coming together of chart and context –

then the archetypes make up the rules of astrology and

one uses those to interpret the chart. There is no

middle way; there are the rules of astrology and a

method of making an interpretation from them.

59

I have no idea how this view is compatible with his view, already quoted above, that

astrological ideas should be tested empirically and those failing the test should be culled.

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Gillett believes empirical research should

continue in order to find the variables on which

astrological rules are based, although “you can never

be certain that what happened last time will repeat

itself” (Gillett 2006: 68-69). By all means conduct

research on a natural astrology; if some evidence is

found it can be incorporated into the rules of

astrology. However, it would require more empirical

evidence than it is reasonable to expect to

necessitate a change of methodology when choosing the

meaning of an astrological symbol. If an astrological

symbol has six hundred meanings, then reducing the

possible number of meanings to, say, four hundred will

not enable one to propose an empirically based

methodology. If the methodology used is the one

detailed above then that methodology, that process of

realising a symbol, must take precedence over any new

empirical findings. It would be contradictory to use

such a methodology but then to exclude a meaning one

“knows” because it was one of the two hundred excluded

meanings. We have already mentioned that this is what

happened with the Gauquelin results; although they

support a weak natural astrology they are routinely

ignored by astrologers. This, however, remains

secondary discussion because no empirical evidence has

been forthcoming which could reduce the list of

meanings for astrological symbols from six hundred to

four hundred.

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Conclusion

We have followed Cornelius and argued that the process

of choosing a meaning for an astrological symbol is

context dependent, in which the astrologer goes back

and forth between context and symbol until he/she is

able to realise a particular meaning for a symbol by

grounding it in the context. We have argued that this

is similar to the hermeneutic approach to the

humanities and to the methodology used in other

divinatory systems. Ultimately, it involves a knack

or a knowing that a particular meaning is the right

one. This knack or knowing is not esoteric but common

to all forms of human judgment and interpretation.

The occult or esoteric part of the astrological

process is the coming together of chart and context in

a way which enables the astrologer to provide

pertinent guidance.

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Chapter Five: Divinatory astrology and the scientific

researchers

Introduction

The scientific researchers argue that the divinatory

approach to astrology is contradicted by the sort of

enquiries that astrologers actually make; that

astrology does not “work” and can best be understood

as a form of satisfaction; and that although "the

experiences [of astrologers] are real enough" (Mather

2008: 54) they can be accounted for by human judgment

errors. These issues will be discussed in this

chapter and much will be illustrated about the nature

of the astrological experience. When that is clear

the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos will be

examined and compared to the other hypothesis which

has been put forward to account for them - that

astrological experiences can be accounted for by human

judgment errors.

Divinatory Astrology

In Astrology, Science and Culture Curry argues that

the paradigmatic astrological enquiry involves the

following four factors:

“What” – cognitive knowledge or rather wisdom,

is sought; “should” – this introduces a moral

or ethical dimension, whether this is

interpreted metaphysically (a deontological

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good), socially (the greater good) or narrowly

(my individual good); “I” – the query concerns

the questioner uniquely, and requires his or

her participation (both of which points still

hold true of a “we”); and “do” – an action,

specific and concrete, is also involved

(Willis and Curry 2004: 57-8).

There are some problems in proposing that the

paradigmatic astrological enquiry should be seen as a

question in the form of “What should I do?” because

some astrological enquiries, such as “Where is my

cat?”, do not come in this form but do, or could,

contain the four elements mentioned. However, the

ability to find exceptions like this does not affect

the thrust of the argument that the paradigmatic

divinatory astrological enquiry requires participation

and is essentially a “what” rather than a “how”

enquiry.

A more important criticism is the one made by the

scientific researchers. Mather (2008) and Dean in his

review of Astrology Science and Culture argue that

horary enquiries are not “what” questions at all, and

are much more concerned with “how” matters. Thus,

they argue that the contention of Curry is “flatly

contradicted by Lilly‟s Christian Astrology”:

Lilly devotes over 350 of Christian

Astrology‟s 850 pages to answering questions

such as: Do I have brothers or sisters? Is

my brother alive or dead? Shall I have

children? Will my illness be long or short?

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Is she cheating on me? Are my goods lost or

stolen? Will the thief be caught? When will

I die? Will my journey be successful? Will I

get the job? But according to Willis and

Curry, such what-will-happen questions are not

allowable and cannot be answered

(www.astrologyandscience.com).60

This is an issue for the divinatory approach because

it is clear than many astrological enquiries are not

framed in the manner of what Curry calls the

paradigmatic divinatory approach. However, this has

been discussed in great detail in the available

literature by Curry and Cornelius. In The Moment of

Astrology, Cornelius discusses a number of Lilly‟s

horoscopes and concludes, “Horary is being used not to

predict the outcome but to change it. It is an active

role for astrology, not simply passive reporting like

a celestial weather forecast” (2003: 146).61 One

example discussed by Cornelius involves a woman who

has received a proposal of marriage and wants to know

whether she should accept it. The question is

specific: “A Gentlewoman desired to know if she

should have an aged man; yea, or no.” But Cornelius

argues, correctly in my view, that the horary is only

resolved by the “symbolic participation” of the

60

Accessed March 2008. 61

It is clear that Dean et al. have a good knowledge of astrological techniques and have read all

the recent literature. However, it is equally clear that they have a limited knowledge of

astrological history and have not studied horary astrology in any depth. The revival in horary

astrology, and interest in astrological history, took place in the late 1980s and 90s. Bernard

Eccles once said to me that astrologers who learnt their craft in the 1970s and 80s were “forced

to go back to the gym for an astrological work-out” by which he meant they had to take on board

the horary and historical revival. I am not convinced that Dean et al. ever went back to that

astrological gym.

141

querent (ibid: 148-153). The woman acts out the

symbolism in the chart and in this way resolves the

issue. It does not matter what the question or

enquiry is, what matters is how the question is

treated (see Willis and Curry 2004: 67).

Thus, it is quite possible to consider a birth

chart which one might think provided certain pre-

determined characteristics and use it to provide

guidance on what-to-do matters. The client will be

involved in the discussion and, therefore, will be a

participant in the process. Indeed, as has been shown

above the methodology does not exist to use astrology

to provide pre-determined characteristics and what-

will-happen answers. Further, if the choice of

astrological symbol is in part context dependent the

client is involved and if the client is involved then,

as Cornelius points out, the guidance provided will be

used to help change behaviour and the possible

outcome. It is simply unrealistic to argue that a

client would not use the guidance received to do this.

We have already referred to the astrologer from

Oxyrhynchus and commented on how difficult it is to

produce judgments which cannot be used as guidance.

Whatever astrologers set out to achieve they will be

forced through the requirements of their methodology

to provide what-to-do rather than what-will-happen

type answers.

This means that astrology is not a science and

does not have the methodology of a science. The

scientific researchers agree that it is not a science

– because it has no empirical support - but do not

accept that it is appropriate for it to answer the

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sorts of questions that science cannot answer,

although it does not seem controversial to claim that

science is not in a position to answer what-to-do or

why type question, see Scruton (1996 11-25), and

Holbraad (2003). Indeed, Holbraad puts it well when

he says, "when all causal chains are said and done, as

tightly as can be, there is still space enough to ask

'why' as an extra question" (ibid).

However, the scientific researchers argue that

empirical tests are always relevant. In Phillipson‟s

Astrology in the Year Zero the following dialogue

takes place:

Q: Astrologers who say astrology is not

testable may do so because they see it as a

divinatory tool more akin to a ritual that

prepares the mind to intuit what needs to be

said. In their view the working of this tool

is not necessarily testable in a scientific

way.

Researchers: Their view is hard to understand.

It is like saying that we don‟t know how

gravity works and therefore cannot test the

fall of apples. The issue is whether the

astrology ritual works better than a control

ritual, e.g., by providing new information or

by improving self-esteem. Much is testable

here (2000: 143).

Thus astrology, whether a ritual or not, whether

divination or not, can be tested.

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However, this dialogue only leads to confusion.

First, it assumes that astrological practice can be

considered a ritual. However, this is by no means

clear: Rappaport mentions invariance as one of the

important features of a ritual (1999: 36-7) but

astrological practice would seem to be distinguished

by the extraordinary variance of techniques and

approach used by practising astrologers. At the very

least the claim that astrological practice can be seen

as a ritual requires further justification. Second,

it misunderstands the nature of a ritual (see Willis

and Curry 2004: 97). And third, it assumes that the

sort of divination involved in an astrological enquiry

is a form of intuition but this, as we have already

explained, is not our understanding of divination.

However, leaving these issues to one side, the

major problem with the dialogue is that it appears to

accept the premise of the scientific researchers that

empirical test work is relevant to an astrological

enquiry but then asserts that the astrological enquiry

is concerned with matters which cannot be empirically

tested. This, however, leads to the response given by

the scientific researchers: you can always conduct

empirical tests. The issue then becomes a matter of

whether such tests can be conducted and, presumably,

the scientific researchers are correct: empirical

tests can always be conducted – even if the results

cannot be positive. However, we do not accept the

initial premise. Our argument is that empirical test

work is irrelevant to the astrological enquiry and we

have defined the Responsive Cosmos as an agency which

does not conform to natural laws. Thus, the

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Responsive Cosmos is involved in matters which cannot

be examined by the normal evidential means of science.

The Responsive Cosmos is a concept created to account

for astrological experiences but the experience of

astrologers and scientific evidence are two entirely

different matters. These differences have been

highlighted by various discussions on religious

experience. For example, Keith Ward points out that

“it is quite rational to expect a personal God [or a

responsive cosmos] to show signs of divine presence

and power which are not explicable by general physical

laws alone” (2004: 164). However, the scientific

researchers do not accept this position. They do not

accept that astrology can be concerned with something

other than natural laws. To understand why this is

the case it is necessary to examine what is meant by

astrology “working”.

Astrology working

As already mentioned, Dean et al. are specific about

what constitutes “working” in astrology:

But no conclusion [about astrology working] is

possible without also knowing how well

astrology works in all four cells abcd, where

a= Rosenblum [the psychiatrist who found in an

astrological consultation that astrology

„works‟] and his chart, b= Rosenblum and a

control chart, c= control person and

Rosenblum‟s chart, d= control person and

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control chart, all determined blind of course

(Dean et al. 1988/9: 49).

The aim is to remove all non-astrological influences

because “what „it works‟ actually means” is “that all

non-astrological influences leading to the same result

have been ruled out” (Phillipson 2000: 132). One does

this by blind tests and making sure that Rosenblum is

tested with another chart and that his chart is tested

with another person. An astrological judgment only

“works” if it passes this test.

The problem with tests conducted in this manner is

that they preclude the sort of astrological judgment

made by astrologers in which prior knowledge and the

context of the matter being looked at are taken into

consideration. In other words, according to the

scientific researchers, the kind of divinatory

astrology that an astrologer like Cornelius actually

practises – which is participatory - cannot be an

example of astrology “working”. However, it is the

participatory element of the astrological judgment

which enables it to answer what-to-do type enquiries.

Thus, the scientific researchers‟ understanding of

astrology “working” excludes the type of enquiry

which, we are arguing, is central to the purpose of

astrology.

We can go further than this. If astrological

methodology is not scientific and the choice of

meaning for an astrological symbol depends in part on

the context then by removing the context one will

remove all astrology. Thus, the astrological

methodology developed in the last chapter will produce

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astrology which will never work in accordance with the

definition provided by Dean et al. However, this

methodology, as has been shown, is appropriate for a

discipline which is a humanity rather than a science.

Given that it is the scientific researchers, among

others, who have shown that the empirical evidence

astrology would require to be considered a science

does not exist, it is surprising that they object when

astrologers develop a methodology appropriate for a

discipline which is not a science.

This problem, of the scientific researchers

claiming jurisdiction over a discipline which is not a

science, is the same one mentioned in the introduction

and is referred to by Oakeshott, Toulmin, Midgley and

others. It is an attempt to make the interpretation

or judgment of an astrologer into a scientific process

by removing the interaction between astrologer and

client or context, in order to determine whether there

are “effects” which correlate with the position of the

planets. It is an attempt to remove the human input

of the astrologer so that there are no outside

influences which might act as artefacts leading one to

think that there was an effect when there is not one.

However, if one removes the astrologer, one no longer

has the practice of astrology but something else (see

Willis and Curry 2004: 72 and 101).

The problem is that the scientific researcher

is defining the “working” of astrology as the

enactment of an astrological law, which exists

irrespective of human intelligence, and then applying

that definition to an astrological judgment, which is

an expression of human intelligence. The mistake is

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to think that human judgments rely on "the flickering

shadows of necessary truths or premises from which

conclusions can be deduced" (Oakeshott 1975: 45).

They do not: we make judgments all the time based on

what we have around us whether they are necessary

truths or not. In the case of astrology we make

astrological judgments using the rules of astrology

irrespective of whether or not they have empirical

verification.

Indeed, any claim that empirical laws are a

necessary part of providing an explanation of what is

going on in astrological judgments is a mix-up of

categories: clearly an astrological judgment can be

made irrespective of whether it conforms to a supposed

empirical law correlating effects on earth with

planetary configurations. All that the empirical

approach can say about the astrological judgment “you

may have problems with your marriage” is that marriage

breakdowns are not correlated with an astrological

configuration, but that observation has no relevance

to an astrologer who is not using “empirical laws” to

make astrological interpretations or judgments.

Curry has proposed an alternative understanding

of astrology “working”. For most astrologers, “its

working” simply means that when using astrology the

astrological judgments they make are pertinent to the

matter being considered: “‟person x in situation y

experienced the truth of a perception or statement‟,

where astrology was integral to situation y” (Willis

and Curry 2004: 102). The situation “y” could be the

situation in the consulting room with the astrologer

but could, depending on the type of enquiry, extend

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beyond the consulting room. In our example horoscope,

although the actual consultation "worked", as far as

the enquirer was concerned, because a pertinent answer

was provided which made sense, the experience of

astrology "working" was only completed when an offer

for the house was accepted, which was several weeks

later.

Thus, astrology working does not consist of

showing that there was an effect which we can describe

as astrological because all other factors other than

the position of the stars have been ruled out; it

consists of the experience of astrology providing

pertinent guidance to the matter at hand. This

alternative understanding proposes that we replace a

natural law with an experience. Therefore, it is

important that we are clear what we mean by an

astrological experience.

The astrological experience

There has been considerable discussion on what

constitutes a religious experience and what examples

of religious experience might tell us about the nature

of religion. One of the points made by Robert H.

Sharf is that we can mean one of two things by an

experience. On the one hand we might mean that we

"participate in" or "live through" an experience so

that it is public, while on the other hand we might

say that "we directly perceive", "observe" or "be

aware of" an experience so that it is a subjective

mental state which eludes public scrutiny. It is what

he calls an inner experience (1998: 104).

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Often it will not be easy to make a clear cut

distinction along these lines because even in a public

experience which are living through their will be

personal subjective elements. We might, for example,

when playing a game of rugby experience a personal,

possibly even irrational, fear, of their right wing.

However, the distinction is useful because it allows

us to separate an experience which is subject to

public scrutiny and an experience which is not. For

example, the experience one might have if one sees

angels is not open to public scrutiny because one

cannot know whether the angels were some sort of

objective entity or a figment of the imagination.

This distinction becomes important if I want to

account for these experiences. I might believe that

when I see an angel this is confirmation of a divine

presence in the world but many people would doubt that

there is any requirement for a hypothesis to account

for my experience because it can be accounted for as a

psychological aberration. In contrast, an experience

open to public scrutiny cannot so easily be dismissed

as a psychological aberration or through some other

factor and there may be more reason to provide a

hypothesis. In this regard the majority of

astrological experiences are open to public scrutiny.

An astrological experience consists of the

following. First, there are the rules of astrology

and the application of them by the astrologer; second,

there is the context or the matter being considered;

third, there is the coming together of astrology and

context in a way which those involved think is

pertinent. All three factors are open to public

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scrutiny to a greater or lesser extent. The rules of

astrology and how they have been applied are open to

all to examine. The context is available to all to

examine to a greater or lesser extent. In our example

horoscope the house bought is entirely external to the

client. In most cases this will be the case. There

will be exceptions but not many.

What is involved is that both astrologer and

client find that the advice provided through the

astrology is pertinent to the matter under

consideration. The astrological experience consists of

the whole - astrological rules, context, and

application of rules to context. As Oakeshott tells

us we cannot separate the expression into experiencing

and what is experienced: “thought or judgment, as I

see it, is not one form of experience, but is itself

the concrete whole of experience” (1933: 11). With

astrology an astrological judgment is a requirement

for an astrological experience: if my friend‟s

marriage breakdown coincides with a Pluto transit of

his Sun, he does not have an astrological experience

unless an astrological judgment is made. It is the

astrological judgment which brings together the Pluto

transit of the Sun and the marriage breakdown; if no

one is aware of the position of Pluto then the only

experience he will have is of his marriage breakdown.

(For another example, see Hyde 1992: 74-75.)

This is quite different to the approach of the

scientific researcher who considers that what matters

is whether it can be shown, regardless of any

awareness one might have of Pluto transits, that there

is a correlation between Pluto transits of the Sun and

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marriage breakdowns. However, although such a

correlation, if it were to exist, would be taken into

consideration by an astrologer making an astrological

judgment, it remains in a different category. The

problem with the approach of the scientific researcher

is even more obvious if we consider our example

horoscope. The experience of astrology “working” was

completed when the offer for the house was accepted

but this required the participation of the enquirer

who had to look for the house (and, arguable, the

people who accepted the offer for it). By removing

the non-astrological factors in order to show that

astrology “works” one prevents it from “working”.

These different approaches are not contradictory

but different ways of examining different matters.

But confusion occurs when one tries to use concepts or

tools from one approach to analyse something from the

other approach: one cannot argue that the

astrological experience is not an astrological

experience unless it contains an astrological effect,

shown to exist through empirical experience, because

an astrological experience does not depend on

experiments conducted on other astrological

experiences. (See Willis and Curry 2004: 102-3.)

The response of the scientific researcher.

These two entirely different understandings of

what it means for astrology to “work” leads to

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considerable confusion.62 For the scientific

researcher, astrology can only “work” if it can be

shown that “all non-astrological influences leading to

the same result have been ruled out” – thus the

importance of blind tests – while what matters to the

divinatory astrologer is the experience, which is

participatory, so a dialogue with clients is

encouraged and any available prior knowledge relevant

to the matter being looked at is considered. If, from

the divinatory point of view, astrology “working”

consists of the experience of a particular

astrological investigation or consultation, then no

amount of tests on other investigations or

consultations will have any impact, one way or the

other, on the validity of that particular experience.

An astrological experience does not obtain or need its

validation from anything other than itself. (See

Oakeshott 1933: 9-33.)

The scientific researcher, however, has not

accepted this position. Instead, they say that there

is nothing about the astrological experience that

cannot be explained as satisfaction;63 and that the

astrological experience - which they do not deny

(Mather 2008: 56) – can be adequately explained by

human judgment errors. These issues will now be

looked at.

62

In my view, nearly all the arguments in Mather‟s letter (Mather 2008) to Correlation,

criticising the divinatory model of astrology, are undermined by a failure to appreciate these

different understandings of astrology “working”. 63

Mather made this point to me in some personal correspondence.

153

Astrology as satisfaction

The scientific researcher would say that if astrology

is not concerned with measuring the effect that a

planet has when it makes a transit, or any correlation

between its position at the moment of birth and a

particular character trait, then astrology can have no

claims to accuracy (understood as empirical test-work

supporting such correlations). If it has no claims to

accuracy, it can only be concerned with subjective

matters, such as the emotional well-being of its

clients, any confidence it gives them, and the general

satisfaction that the astrological client feels as a

result of the consultation process. The scientific

researchers label everything which has not been shown

to be accurate through empirical test work as

satisfaction. They then say that astrology is

concerned with, or should be concerned with,

satisfaction. Astrology seen as satisfaction has no

conflict with the understanding of astrology working

proposed by Curry, and one could test the experience

of astrology working for utility and benefits and make

comparisons with other forms of psychotherapeutical

consultation.

This dichotomy between accuracy - as shown by

empirical tests - and satisfaction - subjective

matters - might, at first, appear attractive; indeed,

some astrologers, who see astrology as a purely

psychological process (see Greene 2008), appear to

accept it. However, this demarcation provides an

account of astrology and the astrological experience

which, apart from being the antithesis of the thesis

154

we are arguing for, fails to account for extant

astrological practice.

It is the antithesis of our position because

there is no room for the Responsive Cosmos. It

assumes that because astrology cannot be shown to be

accurate it is only concerned with satisfaction and

should be measured accordingly. However, if the

Responsive Cosmos is involved then the astrological

enquiry is concerned with obtaining advice from the

Responsive Cosmos. Satisfaction may result from that

advice but that is not the primary purpose of the

enquiry.

What is being done here is to split the process

of “obtaining guidance” from the “outcome of that

guidance” on the assumption that the worth of

obtaining guidance can be measured in terms of the

outcome of that guidance. They are, however, two

different matters. This is a point which has been

made many times in many different contexts. For

example, see Williams‟ (1977) discussion on

Utilitarianism in which he argues that the reasons for

engaging in certain practices are not only due to any

resulting happiness those practices might produce

(even if that can be calculated). Wittgenstein makes

a similar point in his discussion on the work of

Frazer and Tylor‟s:

Kissing the picture of a loved one. This is

obviously not based on a belief that it will

have a definite effect on the object which the

picture represents. It aims at some

satisfaction and it achieves it. Or rather,

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it does not aim at anything; we act in this

way and then feel satisfied (1979: 4e; see

also Tambiah 1990: 54-64).

The scientific researcher tries to solve this

problem by separating the astrological enquiry into an

informative part and a “spiritual” part, testing the

informative part and leaving the “spiritual” part as

untestable. They do not complain that spiritual

theories exist but argue that they should remain in

the spiritual realm: “In effect such theories put

astrology into the purely spiritual domain, which is

perfectly valid provided no claims are made for

astrology other than spiritual ones” (1996: 39). They

then go on to say that “Traditionally the spiritual

world has always been manifest in the material world,

so if astrology deals with things spiritual it must

necessarily deal with things material, which is the

opposite of what spiritual theories imply” (ibid).

However, spiritual theories will inevitably

involve the material world because they are theories

about how to live in a world which is material. The

idea that spiritual theories should only have a

spiritual dimension simply misunderstands them (see

Willis and Curry 2004: 81).

The position of the scientific researcher is

reminiscent of the approach that Cicero takes when, as

mentioned above, he does not accept that divination is

an attempt to interpret the will of the gods and

argues divination, if it exists, should be accountable

in terms of the senses, arts or philosophy. This,

however, only illustrates the unbridgeable gap between

156

our thesis and the argument of the scientific

researchers. We are discussing matters which should

be placed in different categories.

The category the scientific astrologers want to

place astrology cannot account for extant astrological

practice. Any attempt to separate astrology into a

subjective astrology of satisfaction (where accuracy

is not a requirement) and an objective astrology of

accuracy (where accuracy is a requirement), so that

one can concentrate on subjective matters such as

self-understanding, insight and empowerment, which can

then be tested for satisfaction, and ignore objective

matters that need the verification of empirical

evidence - whether Leos are more Leonine than non-Leos

or whether astrologers can distinguish a real chart

from a control chart - (see Phillipson 2000: 129) will

fail to account for what astrologers actually do. All

astrological judgments contain the subjective and

objective elements. It is not possible to separate an

astrological judgment into its subjective and

objective parts because, as Oakeshott says, “There is,

then, no object apart from a subject; no subject

independent of an object” (1933: 60), and, as Curry

says, “Every human activity necessarily partakes of

both, and none is either purely subjective or

objective” (Willis and Curry 2004: 99, but see also 85

and 111).

This point has been made by so many people that

it hardly seems controversial. Indeed, it goes back

to the very start of the development of empirical

philosophy. In 1798 Goethe wrote, in his “Empirical

Observation and Science”, that “The observer never

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sees the pure phenomenon with his own eyes; rather,

much depends on his mood, the state of his senses, the

light, the air, the weather, the physical object, how

it is handled, and a thousand other circumstances.”

(Cited by Holmes (2008): 443). We can use our example

chart to illustrate how the subjective and objective

are completely intermingled. The house is objective

to the querent but the question “Is there a house for

me in the Lake District?” is not a question of

objective fact, which would be extraordinarily

uninteresting – there are sufficient houses on the

market in the Lake District that anyone with enough

money can have one – but is a subjective question

meaning “Will I find the „right‟ house for me?”

Invariably, astrological enquiries will involve both

matters which are objective to those making the

enquiry and their subjective responses to those

objective matters. To try to separate the two is to

fail to understand the nature of the astrological

enquiry. The problem, again, is the assumption that

nothing can be said about matters objective to the

subject without reference to astrological “laws” which

have empirical verification but our example chart,

which was concerned with the purchase of a house,

shows that this assumption is wrong.

The problem of separating an astrological

judgment into its subjective and objective elements,

so that one can have a purely subjective astrology, is

not resolved by changing the terms and trying to

separate an astrological judgment into its

psychological and non-psychological factors. One‟s

attitude towards the house might by psychological but

158

there is still a house which is either bought or not

bought; one might have a psychological problem with

one‟s parents or because of one‟s parents but one

still has or had parents who will feature in the

horoscope. One might be more interested in providing

advice on character and be keen to avoid specific

prognostications about the future so that the client

can obtain a greater understanding of their own

personality, but there is still a context to which

that character or personality must relate. No

astrologer, however, psychological in their approach,

can exclude all non-psychological factors from his/her

analysis.

The paucity of “satisfaction”

The essential problem with the approach of the

scientific researchers is that, as already mentioned,

it fails to take into any consideration any of the

four factors which Toulmin considers to be important

for a study of the humanities. The scientific

researchers fail to understand the difference between

a claim which is universal and a claim which is not.

The former – “all Leos are generous” say - can be

tested, while the latter – “taking this job is the

right thing to do”- cannot be tested in the same way

because, whatever our definition of right, we will

never know what would have happened if the job had

been declined. As Curry says, it is not possible to

go back to the point “preceding that course of action,

and compare the outcome of following the advice of the

159

oracle with that of ignoring it or doing the opposite”

(Willis and Curry 2004: 101).

This is not one of “the classic ploys used by a

pseudoscience to protect it from failure” (Mather

2008: 57) but a legitimate attempt to demarcate

matters which are appropriate for an astrological

enquiry. By moving from empirical tests on accuracy

to empirical tests on satisfaction one fails to take

into consideration what is important about Curry‟s

definition of astrology working – namely, that

astrology working is concerned with the individual,

the particular and not the universal. By describing

the particular moment of astrology working as

satisfaction one categorises it in a way that makes it

easy to consider in terms of utility so that,

theoretically, it can be compared to other moments of

utility, in order to produce a universal theory of

utility or satisfaction.

We can see in this move similarities with

Oakeshott‟s analysis of Marxism, which, with the

failure of the laws of human conduct on which it is

based, moves to a “search for information” which will

emancipate “political deliberation from mere opinion

and conjecture” (1991: 92). The general laws

underlying astrology have failed to materialise but

instead of giving up the project of finding these

laws, one moves to a search for satisfaction and

attempts to analyse astrology in terms of satisfaction

by removing “opinion” and “conjecture”. The purpose

of this move, and the claim that the individual

occurrence of astrology working can best be understood

in this larger category, is to move from the

160

particular to the universal. As Oakeshott suggests,

by removing the particular the universal can be shown

to be “of use”:

By a „scientific‟ inquiry into the stars I do

not, of course, mean either an inquiry

unprovoked by a desire for useful information

(in connection with navigation, for example),

or an inquiry by its character excluded from

providing such information; I mean an inquiry

in which the stars are not regarded (as they

once were) as interesting on account of their

power to determine or reveal human destiny.

Indeed, an attitude towards the stars in which

they are understood in respect of their

independence of ourselves is a condition of

any inquiry which could produce useful

information (e.g. in navigation) (1991:

171).64

What Oakeshott is suggesting is that an inquiry into

the stars, which is intended to produce what he calls

useful information, information pertaining to general

laws – for example, “Suicides have Saturn in the

twelfth house”65 – one has to remove what he calls the

practical response, in which we are “concerned with

64

I should, perhaps, point out that this quote comes in the form of a footnote and Oakeshott is

not discussing astrology but the activity of being an historian. However, it is interesting to note

that Oakeshott, whom I assume had no interest in astrology, had a much better idea of what

astrology was concerned with than the scientific researchers. 65

Oakeshott mentions navigation by the stars, which is a non-astrological use of the stars, but

the principle remains true for astrological laws; one develops the law not by considering the

individual case of a suicide, and what might be particular to it, but by considering all suicides

and whether they have some astrological configuration in common. In the case of suicides, it

has been shown they do not (see Cornelius 2003: 52-54).

161

things in their relation to ourselves”, in preference

to the scientific response, in which we are concerned

not with happenings in relation to ourselves but in

their independence of ourselves. (See also Willis and

Curry 2004: 79 and 95.)

If astrology is concerned with the individual -

and what else can divinatory astrology be concerned

with if it is participatory and each moment of

astrology is unique? – then a research project engaged

with finding universal truths is misplaced. The

attempt to pack these unique individual moments into a

universal rule will devalue those moments. We can see

this if we consider our example chart. It would be

possible to describe the querent as “satisfied”;

satisfaction being a sort of catch-all phrase in which

many things can be placed.66 However, what was being

provided was advice from the Responsive Cosmos about a

particular matter and some sort of spiritual

sustenance was provided through the affirmation that

her search for a house was in tune with the cosmos.

To call it a search for satisfaction is simply to

demean it.

The problem with satisfaction for astrologers

With the failure of empirical tests to show that

astrological techniques and prognostications have

universal accuracy, some astrologers are keen to

justify what they are doing with reference to the

“help it provides clients”. From this they can argue

66

In private correspondence, one of the scientific researchers referred to “the dustbin of

satisfaction”.

162

that they are concerned with the psychological, with

character and not with making specific

prognostications. It is a fallback position which,

they think, cannot be denied, rather like Descartes‟

Cognito. They argue that even if astrologers are

unable to make empirically verifiable predications,

they do help clients.67 Thus, an astrologer might

argue as follows:

The test of astrology does not lie in the

existence of an unequivocal connection between

a forecast and its fulfilment (as in the

concept of forecast in physics) but in the

influence the act of consultancy has on the

life of the seeker, or his ability to find

useful meanings and patterns in his life story

and so forth… The stories it produces are in

fact grasped by the clients as a useful

instrument for guidance and coping with

situations of uncertainty.68

However, as a fallback position it is anything but

secure. What it does is to accept the scientific

researcher's argument that astrology should be

evaluated only through its end result. The scientific

researcher will immediately press for empirical tests

to determine just how much satisfaction astrology

produces, and how that satisfaction compares to other

forms of consultation. If one is saying that

67

This has led to the distinction between “targets” and “goals” made by Dorian Giesler

Greenbaum in “Astrology as a Stochastic Art: Arrows, Aiming and Divination”. 68

Accessed from http://haaretz.co.il on 16th

August 2005 and attributed to Yoav Ben-Dov.

163

astrology is primarily concerned with leaving clients

satisfied, that this is its purpose, one would agree,

presumably, that it should be tested to determine the

extent to which it actually does this. If it turns

out, upon examination, that it does not do this

particularly well, that other methods of consultation

satisfy clients rather better, or that no consultation

leaves clients with exactly the same level of

satisfaction, the partisan astrologer would agree,

presumably, that astrology is best left alone.

Astrologers who argue that astrological practice

can be considered in terms of the psychological end

product or satisfaction of their clients must answer

two questions. The first is whether they would agree

that in the absence of empirical evidence showing that

astrology did this effectively astrology should be

dropped as a practice. If they would still want to

practice then that by itself suggests that something

more than the end product is involved. The second

question is the one we keep coming back to: if

astrology is shown to be effective in the individual

case then why cannot it be shown to be effective when

applied universally? What is it about astrological

practice that allows it to work in an individual case

which prevents universal laws being found through

controlled tests? This is not a question that can be

ignored if one wants to provide an account of

astrological practice. The hypothesis of the

Responsive Cosmos provides one answer; the hypothesis

of human judgment errors another. These two

hypothesises will be evaluated in the final part of

this chapter.

164

One further point is worth mentioning here. We

have argued that the purpose of the astrological

enquiry is to obtain guidance from the Responsive

Cosmos. There is nothing to stop the astrologer in

applying that guidance in a psychological manner and

then testing that guidance for satisfaction or

effectiveness. One can test that guidance for

anything one wants to test it for and compare it to

anything else that one wants to compare it to, but

such tests will not impact on the purpose of the

astrological enquiry. That purpose is not dependent

on the results of a separate enquiry into how the

satisfaction obtained through an astrological enquiry

compares to other similar enquiries. It is not even

dependent on an enquiry into whether it provides any

satisfaction because the original purpose was not to

provide satisfaction but to obtain guidance from the

Responsive Cosmos.

It is a point we will come back to in the

following two chapters when we discuss in more detail

the nature of an astrological enquiry; at this stage

of the argument the point we need to emphasise is that

this “getting help” is not the ultimate purpose of

astrology and if astrology allows someone to find

“useful meanings” and “patterns” in “his life story”

it does so because its purpose lies in obtaining

guidance from a responsive cosmos and “useful

meanings” and “patterns” will result from this.

Arguing that astrology can best be seen as

satisfaction, or as getting help, places it firmly in

the secular world where it can be determined whether

it is useful information. Apart from being the

165

antithesis of our thesis it is the position of someone

“who believes in the pre-eminence of a particular mode

of activity” (Oakeshott 1991: 532) and is trying to

relate astrology to that activity.69 It cuts it off

from the Responsive Cosmos which is its source and, as

we shall argue later, one of the principle reasons

people are interested in astrology.

Human judgment errors

The scientific researcher argues that the rational

explanation of what is happening when astrology works

is that the astrologer and the client are making human

judgment errors which lead them to think that it is

working, but that actually nothing astrological is

taking place at all. This is the hypothesis that has

been put forward by the scientific researchers to

account for astrological experiences. In their view

the astrological community needs to address this point

in order to advance the discussion of what constitutes

astrological practice (see Mather 2008: 56). However,

their hypothesis is completely inadequate.

We have already discussed the two different

understandings of astrology working. However, in

their discussion of human judgment errors the

scientific researchers fail to recognise that these

two different definitions of astrology working exist.

Thus, they argue that a judgment “has its everyday

meaning of reaching an opinion about something” (Dean

et al. 1998/99: 26) but that astrologers make mistakes

69

Oakeshott is discussing poetry and not astrology.

166

when making these judgments, which explains why they

believe that astrology works – astrology working here

understood to be the presence of an astrological

effect verified by empirical test-work (ibid: 31). In

this way an astrological judgment is equated with the

scientific researcher‟s definition of astrology

working. This is then used to explain the

astrological experience; an experience which Mather

does not deny: “The experiences are real enough; what

is in dispute is how they are best explained” (2008:

56).

This, however, as we have already argued, is to

confuse two categories. Human judgment errors may

explain why some astrologers believe that their

experiences of astrology working – consisting of the

experience of receiving astrological advice pertinent

to the situation - allow them to make the claim that

there are astrological effects verified by empirical

evidence,70 but such human judgment errors (contrary

to the contention of the scientific researchers) can

never explain that experience of receiving

astrological advice pertinent to the situation.

The scientific researchers list many human

judgment errors in their article in Correlation

(1998/99). They are largely concerned with the

inability of astrologers, or humans in general, to do

two things: first, to synthesise all the possible

chart factors into one whole; and second, to

distinguish between an actual correlation between

planet and effect and an illusory correlation between

70

My own observation, although not backed up by any research, is that few astrologers actually

believe this.

167

planet and effect, which in turn leads to a third

error – the disposition to self-confirm. We can add a

fourth error, closely related to the others, which is

the human propensity to find meanings and patterns in

data (see Bird 2006: 149).

Human judgment errors were suggested as an

explanation for the working of astrology ten years

ago, but we are still waiting for an example horoscope

in which the scientific researchers show how an

astrological judgment, and the experience of astrology

working, can be explained by human judgment errors.71

It is simply assumed that they do explain it; however,

this is something they cannot do. All of these human

judgment errors are dispositions to mistake one thing

for another, or to think one is doing something when

one is doing something else, or in assuming that

something is there when it is not there. But a

capacity or disposition is in a different category to

an experience. You cannot explain away an experience

with reference to a capacity because an experience

just is (see Willis and Curry 2004: 101). It is a

mistake to use the existence of human judgment errors

to argue that the experience of astrology “working” in

the consultation room becomes the experience of

astrology “not working” (see Willis and Curry 2004:

102-3). As Oakeshott says of poetry, it “is not the

„expression‟ of an experience, it is the experience

and the only one there is” (1991: 525).

At the risk of repeating ourselves, it is worth

detailing the argument again because it forms such an

71

At least I have never seen an example provided either in Correlation or the

astrologyandscience website.

168

important part of the argument of the scientific

researcher. The scientific researchers argue as

follows: astrologers make judgments; these judgments

are based on laws which are meant to be supported by

empirical evidence; the laws they are based on are not

supported by empirical evidence but, owing to human

judgment errors, there are good reasons for those

involved to believe that they are based on empirical

evidence; consequently the resulting experience is not

astrological. This argument, however, only holds if

one accepts the assumption – which we do not accept -

that one can only have an astrological experience if

there is empirical evidence supporting the

astrological rules on which the judgment which results

in the astrological experience is based. Even if one

accepted this, however, one could not account for the

experience except, as Curry says, by redefining it as

non-astrological. Human judgment errors cannot

obviate the experience itself.

The scientific astrologer could, and presumably

would, claim that if these human judgment errors did

not exist, if we knew we had an inbuilt capacity to

mistake correlations and to believe what we are told,

that we would not experience astrology at all. This

would suggest that rather than an astrologer

experiencing examples of astrology working and

reaching the conclusion that astrology conforms to an

empirical law, which would be an example of the

“illusory correlation”, an astrologer only experiences

astrology working because, before they start

considering astrology, they assume in advance that it

does conform to an empirical law, so when they realise

169

there are no empirical laws supporting astrology, they

will no longer experience astrology working and will

experience something else. But there are many things

wrong with this way of thinking (quite apart from

knowing what the something else might be).

First, astrologers had the experience of

astrology working long before mankind envisaged

empirical laws (in a modern scientific sense) and, for

example, the Babylonian observers are unlikely to have

stopped practising astrology if they had known that

they did not conform to empirical laws and more likely

to have assumed the involvement of the divine; second,

there are plenty of practising astrologers who do not

believe that astrology conforms to empirical laws but

who still practise; third, it seems most unlikely that

all those who become engaged in practising astrology

do so under the mistaken belief that it is conforming

to empirical laws; and fourth, even if one were to

know that we are subject to human judgment errors, if

one has the experience of astrology working the

criteria for an astrological experience would still be

fulfilled –“‟person x in situation y experienced the

truth of a perception or statement‟, where astrology

was integral to situation y” (to quote Curry again:

Willis and Curry 2004: 102). Thus, one is simply

rejecting the criteria for an astrological experience.

It might be argued that, as the client determines

whether the advice is pertinent or not, if the client

knew that there was no empirical support for

astrology, and that he/she was subject to the

“illusory correlation”, they would no longer think

that the judgment was pertinent. This argument,

170

however, will not work. We have already made the

point that the astrological experience is public and

even the sense of pertinence is not private to the

client but open for all to discuss whether the

judgment meets the criteria of pertinence. This

argument follows in the tradition of Wittgenstein (see

Wittgenstein on private languages but especially his

discussion of pain and sensations 1976: 246-305). If

the client wants to change their view of pertinence

because they have been told that astrology is not

based on empirical laws, then one of two things is

happening: either one is equating astrology with

empirically verifiable astrological effects, or one is

equating pertinence with empirically verified

astrological effects. The former would be to see the

discourse of astrology as part of the discourse of

science, concluding that, as there is no empirical

evidence for it, astrology as such does not exist; the

latter would be to refuse to engage in the

conversation of astrology, because there are many

statements which we might consider pertinent to the

matter at hand – advice from your spouse on a new job

offer, say - which are not verified with reference to

the empirical.

The confusion is partly caused by the two

different understandings of astrology working.

However, whatever the reason, it is still confused

thinking. Human judgment errors do not account for

what is going on in the astrological process when an

astrological judgment is being made. We can show this

by considering in detail these human judgment errors

and our example chart.

171

The first error is said to be an astrologer‟s

inability to synthesise all the astrological factors

which go into making an astrological judgment. Dean

et al. are able to quote several astrologers who claim

that it is important to synthesise all the chart

factors, and that each factor relates to every other

factor, and they conclude, “astrologers cannot

possibly do what they say they do, namely juggle

unaided every chart factor simultaneously” (1998/9:

39).

However, Dean et al. appear to be unaware that

this method of “synthesising” a chart is a relatively

recent development and that in the medieval period,

for example, each astrological house was considered

separately in turn. Perhaps more surprisingly, they

seem to be completely unaware that the Company of

Astrologers‟ method of “locating the significance” has

been developed specifically because the Company agrees

that astrologers cannot synthesise all chart factors

at once.

Thus, this human judgment error will not apply to

all astrologers but only to those astrologers who are

trying to synthesise all the chart factors into one

whole and it cannot be argued that synthesising all

chart factors is a necessary part of the astrological

judgment. However, if those astrologers who are

trying to synthesise all the chart factors are

incapable of doing so – as is the premise of Dean et

al. – then one is left wondering what they are doing

when they analyse a chart. Dean et al. do not address

this question but, presumably, these astrologers focus

172

on the chart factors they consider most important – it

is not clear that they could be doing anything else.

If no astrologer is actually synthesising all the

chart factors when he/she analyses a chart then this

human judgment error becomes irrelevant. It cannot

have an impact on the astrological interpretation or

judgment. Certainly, as far as our example horoscope

is concerned, it is not a factor: one takes Mercury

to be significant for the querent because it is ruler

of the Ascendant, and Jupiter to be significant for

the house sought because it rules the fourth house,

and considers the movement of the Moon, the co-

significator of the querent, which will bring the

house and querent together. No synthesising is

involved and there is nothing too difficult for the

human brain.

The second error is to mistake an “illusory”

correlation with a real correlation. However,

divinatory astrology makes no claim that astrological

rules and traditions are based on real correlations or

empirical laws, and they are not necessary for the

judgment made in our example chart. We became

confident that Jupiter was the significator of the

house partly because of the astrological tradition but

also because one of its meanings, “the loosening of

bonds”, was appropriate for the querent. It was a

decision which was not dependent on any other

horoscope or any supposed correlation. We suggested

that in timing her actions the client should mirror

the movement of Mercury in the sky. This was

astrological instinct – thinking astrologically. It

was not dependent on a correlation between Mercury

173

going retrograde and a fall in the likelihood of

finding a house. A universal correlation is not a

requirement for using an astrological rule to make an

astrological judgment.

The third error is the propensity for a human to

self-confirm. This will have no impact on the

judgment given, which is made irrespective of whether

the client has a propensity to believe what he/she is

told. However, it could impact on the working of

astrology because if the client has a propensity to

believe what he/she is told then he/she may believe

that the interpretation works when it does not work.

However, in most cases whether the astrology fits the

context and is pertinent is open to public scrutiny

and any self-confirming bias can be corrected. In our

example chart the bid on the house was accepted and

the enquirer‟s subsequent behaviour which confirms

that the house is the „right‟ house is public

confirmation that the astrological advice was

pertinent. It might also be argued that if the client

knew there was no empirical evidence for astrology,

and that he/she was naturally subject to a self-

confirmation bias, he/she would not find the astrology

pertinent. This, however, is to repeat the argument

made above and to equate empirical evidence with

pertinence, but the two are not the same: I might

find the advice I receive from my brother pertinent to

my situation even though it is not based on, or

justified by, empirical evidence.

In our example chart, this human judgment error

has no relevance. The enquirer found the judgment

pertinent and whether she had a propensity to self-

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confirm or believe what she was told does not make

that pertinence invalid. The bid for the house was

accepted, she likes living there, and that has nothing

to do with human judgment errors.

The fourth related error is our disposition to

see patterns where no objective pattern exists.

However, it is not necessary to show that an objective

entity behind a pattern exists before one can use that

pattern. It might be argued that without a

disposition to see meanings in patterns astrology

would not exist, but that is not an argument which is

going to obviate an astrological experience or

judgment.

Accounting for astrological experiences

It should be clear that human judgment errors cannot

account for the astrological experience. It is now

time to discuss the hypothesis of the Responsive

Cosmos and whether it can account for astrological

experiences. When we have done that it will be

necessary to consider some of the criticisms which

will be made of it: in particular, that coincidence

or the multivalent nature of astrological symbolism

eliminates the need for any hypothesis at all. One

might call coincidence a third hypothesis for

explaining the astrological experience. However, it

attempts to explain them by arguing that astrological

experiences are not public but private. Therefore, it

is not so much a hypothesis but a claim that a

hypothesis is not necessary.

175

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos provides a

remarkably simply account of astrological experiences.

It suggests that the astrological chart is relevant to

the matter being considered because of the involvement

of the Responsive Cosmos. If the astrological chart

is relevant to the matter being considered then it

should be possible to provide a reading that those

involved believe is pertinent. This accounts for the

experiences of astrologers. Astrology does not always

work but the Responsive Cosmos is not guaranteed to

provide a relevant chart.

There is nothing circular about this argument. We

do not assume the Responsive Cosmos in order to

produce our astrological experiences. Astrological

experiences exist - this is not denied - and the

Responsive Cosmos is our hypothesis. Unlike human

judgment errors, it can account for them.

It does, however, require a particular way of

analysing the available evidence. In his discussion

of religious experience Ward has said:

… there is a fundamental divide in human

thought, between those who see nature as an

ordered and impersonal system in which one

event follows another necessarily and

invariably without the intervention of any

spiritual or personal agency, and those who

see nature as a system of signs and symbols of

an underlying quasi-personal reality (Ward

2004: 49).

176

Those who accept that there is a spiritual

dimension to the universe will evaluate the evidence

available - examples of astrological experiences - in

different ways.

First, the lack of empirical evidence for

astrological effects will be ignored because they do

not form part of what is meant by astrology working.

Second, what will matter is the individual

astrological experience and the meaning given to it

will depend on the individual circumstances (see

Wittgenstein 1972: 423). Repetition will not be

important.

Here we are taking note of Toulmin‟s second lost

insight by refusing to demean the particular or

individual occurrence. In contrast, for the

scientific researcher, the particular or individual is

not important and what matters is the development of

general objective laws, so without repetition there

can be no meaning “worth having” (see Dean and Lopton

1995/96: 17). This refusal to accept that one can

find meaning in the individual by giving value to it,

without a body of empirical evidence supporting that

meaning, demeans the importance of the individual.

This, for Toulmin, is one of the characteristics of

modernism.

What matters to the scientific researcher is

whether “‟the act of imaginative assignation‟ is

perceived to be accurate, since this determines

whether the act will be useful and therefore survive”

(Mather 2008: 56). However, in the individual case,

whether it “survives” or not is irrelevant; what

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matters is the individual case. If the choice is

between saying that the astrological experience is of

no value because it cannot be repeated in empirical

tests, or postulating the involvement of the

Responsive Cosmos in the coming together of astrology

and context for this unique occurrence, thus producing

this particular experience which is pertinent to this

particular context, then many people will in all

likelihood choose the involvement of the Responsive

Cosmos as the best account of what occurs. Indeed, it

gives value to the experience whereas the scientific

researcher attempts to demean that experience by

arguing that it is not valid and has no meaning. To

those who have actually had an astrological

experience, with meaning which they value, to find it

dismissed as a cognitive error seems at best

inadequate and at worst to miss the point. It misses

the point because, whether it can be dismissed as a

cognitive error or not, the sense of meaning and value

is real and should be accounted for and not dismissed

as an error.

Third, one is not interested in showing that

there are underlying laws to the universe. One will

not use astrological experiences to argue that are

fixed laws underlying the world. Instead, these

astrological experiences will form the accumulated

evidence of astrology working, or of how it works in

practice. Therefore, it will not be necessary to

discard all astrological experiences when other non-

astrological factors may be involved or which others

might argue are coincidences. Instead, one will

evaluate the available data and reach a conclusion

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which allows one to make sense of those experiences.

It is legitimate to conclude that the Responsive

Cosmos is involved because one is not claiming that

the involvement of the Responsive Cosmos has the same

degree of certainty that the claim for an objective

law must have. Indeed, in Cosmos and Psyche, Tarnas,

who is not arguing for the involvement of the

Responsive Cosmos, also reaches the conclusion that

the weight of astrological experiences suggests that

something of a spiritual nature is involved:

I found there were simply too many such

„coincidences‟ evident in the data, which were

too consistently coherent with the

corresponding archetypal principles, and too

strongly suggestive of the workings of some

form of complex creative intelligence, to

assume that they were all meaningless chance

anomalies (2006: 488).

Fourth, since one has no interest in being

objective one will include dialogue with a client, or

prior knowledge of the matter being considered, in

one's evaluation of the astrological experience. The

data accepted by science does “not by any means cover

the whole of what is apprehended in experience” (Ward

2004: 162). If the divinatory astrologer includes in

his or her evaluation both the subjective and

objective factors involved, while the scientific

researcher excludes one or the other (usually the

subjective factors), then different conclusions will

be reached. However, as the astrological judgment, or

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experience, requires both the subjective and the

objective and cannot be split in two, the conclusions

reached by the scientific researcher will not be

taking all of the evidence of astrology working –

understood as the experience of a pertinent

astrological judgment - into consideration. Here we

are taking into consideration Toulmin‟s fourth lost

insight, the contingent. The subjective factors are

the contingent circumstances which are unique to that

moment in time; these are factors which the scientific

researchers ignore.

And last, each to their own - the divinatory

astrologer and scientific researcher will evaluate the

available evidence and give it an interpretation which

accords with their own personal worldview. As Curry

points out, the process of divination includes “a

worldview, an attitude, and a set of concrete

practices” (Willis and Curry 2004: 58) and if this

includes a belief in the Responsive Cosmos then the

astrological evidence will be evaluated in a different

way as it is incorporated into that worldview. The

fact that there is a lack of empirical evidence

supporting the astrological tradition may have no

bearing on that interpretation.

If the scientific researcher claims that this is

an irrational approach then it is only because they

are using a particular definition of rationality which

requires one to act in accordance with empirical data.

In the case of an astrological experience, there is no

reason why this should hold. As Ward says, in

relation to the religious experience, by this

definition of rationality “The rational person must

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proportion belief to the [empirical] evidence

available, and only believe as strongly as the

evidence will allow. This is almost totally

inapplicable in the case of personal experiences”

(Ward, 2004: 162).72

We should be clear that we have proved nothing.

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos is not a

scientific hypothesis to be proved one way or the

other by empirical tests. It is a hypothesis put

forward to account for experiences which fall outside

the domain of empirical tests and scientific enquiry.

It is the only adequate hypothesis that has been put

forward because the hypothesis of human judgment

errors is inadequate. However, it is possible that

alternative hypothesises will be put forward in the

future which provide a better account for the

astrological experience.

Criticisms of our hypothesis

Three criticisms will be considered: first, that the

argument is circular; second, that coincidence must be

taken into consideration and when considered with the

multivalent nature of astrological symbols mean that,

contrary to our assertion, astrological experiences

are essentially inner and require no hypothesis at

all; and third, that the hypothesis is irrational and

leads to fantasy. It will be shown that none of these

arguments are successful.

72

The whole of this argument is indebted to Ward‟s (2004) distinction between experience and

empirical evidence, p158-162.

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a) The argument is circular

We have already said that the argument is not circular

and we can quickly dismiss the issue but the following

was put to me:

Astrology (sometimes) works. One accounts for

this by assuming that there is such a thing as

a responsive cosmos. One justifies the

assumption by pointing to the fact of

astrology working. This is circular and

therefore fails.

The criticism is that I am drawing out the

implications of what I assumed in the first place, and

then justifying that assumption by pointing to those

implications, which were dependent on my initial

assumption.

This completely misunderstands the argument.

There are examples, which we can call a body of

evidence, of the rules of astrology being used

successfully in astrological consultations to provide

pertinent guidance on the matter being considered.

These are examples of astrology “working” and that

astrologers and clients have these experiences is, as

far as I know, questioned by no one. We have argued

that these experiences are subject to public scrutiny.

Therefore, whether this body of evidence exists is not

the issue; it will still exist even if one rejects the

involvement of the Responsive Cosmos. What is at

issue is how to account for this body of evidence.

Some people argue that it can be accounted for by

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human judgment error. I have concluded that the

involvement of the Responsive Cosmos provides a better

explanation and have pointed to our example horoscope

which, in my view, cannot be accounted for by human

judgment errors. There is nothing circular about the

argument because the body of evidence is there,

however we choose to account for it.

b) Coincidence and multivalent astrological symbols

The argument that successful astrological

prognostications are the result of coincidence or the

flexible nature of astrological techniques and symbols

does not have any impact on the experience of

astrology working. It does not matter whether the

astrology is likely to happen or not likely to happen

for the astrological experience to occur. However, it

does have an impact on whether the astrological

experience is open to public scrutiny or not. If it

can be shown that astrological rules are so flexible

that whether they fit the context is not open to

public scrutiny because they will always fit the

context, or if it can be shown that the context of

most astrological experiences is so vague that the

astrological techniques will always seem to fit, so

that public scrutiny is not required, it will be

possible to argue that the astrological experiences

are not open to public scrutiny.

If astrological experiences are essentially inner

experiences then they are more like religious

experiences and although they may reinforce one's

belief in the Responsive Cosmos (see Proudfoot: 216)

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they do not call for a separate hypothesis to account

for them. Inner experiences can be accounted for in

any number of ways, perhaps in terms of psychology.

However, our argument is that astrological experiences

are public and subject to public scrutiny. If they

are subject to public scrutiny then it is not so easy

to describe them in purely psychological terms and a

hypothesis is called for.

An example of divination outside the field of

astrology might clarify the point we are making. When

the Lama Radha Rinpoche was escaping from Tibet, while

he and his colleagues were walking up a mountain, they

were attacked by crows. When they reached the top of

the mountain they saw that Chinese troops were in the

valley below and they had to retrace their steps

(1981). For the Lama and his colleagues this was an

example of divination because the behaviour of the

crows was a sign from the cosmos, although they failed

to read it until they reached the top of the mountain.

If someone told the Lama, 'if you walk up that

mountain at this time of year you will disturb the

crows nesting and they will attack you', thus

providing an alternative explanation, it is unlikely

to make any difference to the Lama's belief that this

was an example of divination because he would expect

the crows to conform to natural laws and for the

Responsive Cosmos to provide signs which do conform to

natural laws. However, it is not necessary to

postulate the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos to

account for this particular experience. There remains

a perfectly good explanation: this is how crows

behave. The Lama may consider this an example of

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divination, and it may reinforce his belief in a

living Responsive Cosmos, but the experience is

personal to him and is dependent on his belief that

the cosmos will provide signs to be interpreted.

Astrology differs from the example provided by

the Lama because there is an astrological chart which

the astrologer uses to provide the interpretation.

The divinatory part of the astrological process is the

coming together of chart and context in a way that is

relevant and this cannot be put down to natural

behaviour, as the behaviour of birds can. The move to

deny that astrological experiences are subject to

public scrutiny is, therefore, different than it would

be for the Lama's example. The move has three

components which we will consider separately.

The first is that all astrological charts are

capable of producing an interpretation pertinent to

the context because astrological symbols are

multivalent and the techniques flexible.73 This,

however, is not the case for our example chart. If

the question in our example chart had been asked forty

minutes later a different astrological chart would

have been produced, which would have given different

significators for both the client and house, leading

to a different answer. Equally, both the context and

the rules of astrology help to determine how the

astrological symbols can be interpreted so it is not

the case that they can be interpreted with complete

flexibility, at least not if one is going to follow

73

Mather (2008: 58) implies that this is a human judgment error which he calls “capitalisation

on chance” but the issue is the multivalent nature of astrological symbols and they are not a

human judgment error.

185

the rules of astrology. This process, as we have seen

in our discussion of astrological methodology in

chapter four, is open to public scrutiny. It is open

to anyone who is aware of both the context and the

rules of astrology to argue that the application of

those rules in this particular case is inappropriate.

Thus, if the context is too vague, or the rules

of astrology are being used in too flexible a manner,

it is open to all observers to say so. If this

happens it might be agreed that the astrological

experience should be considered an inner experience

rather than a public experience. However, from the

fact that such criticism is possible it does not

follow that all astrological experiences can dismissed

in this manner. Indeed, in most cases the context and

the application of the rules will be sufficiently

precise that this criticism will not apply.

The second component of the argument is that

astrological enquiries are phrased in such a way that

there is no possibility of an incorrect answer. If

one answers 'Is there a house for me in the Lake

District?' with a 'no' then one stops looking and no

house is found. If one answers 'yes' one keeps on

looking until one finds a house because, after all,

the Lake District is a fairly big place and there will

be a house somewhere. In this way both a „yes‟ and a

„no‟ answer become self-fulfilling and the answer will

also seem to be right.

This component of the argument is unsuccessful

because whether the „right‟ house in the Lake District

was found, whether the advice given was pertinent to

the context, is open to public scrutiny. There is

186

considerable difference between buying a house and

saying afterwards to friends, family and anyone

interesting, 'this is perfect', 'we were so lucky

finding this valley', 'I love it here', and saying

things like, 'this will do for a while', 'we like it

but it's not what we're looking for', 'we really

wanted to live near Windermere'. The problem here is

that what is expected is a „yes‟ or „no‟ answer which

can be verified through an empirical test. The answer

provided, however, was answering a different sort of

question and whether it succeeded in doing that is

open to public scrutiny.

The third component of the argument is that

although one might claim that the house was found at a

specific time for that to mean anything one must show

repetition. Without repetition it can be little more

than a coincidence because we know that there is no

empirical rule showing that the distance between two

confirming planets indicates a specific time.

This third component is the most interesting. On

the one hand it appears to be the weakest part of the

argument because the timing of the purchase involves

so many people that it cannot be anything other than

public. However, on the other hand, we have mentioned

in the last chapter that this part of the

prognostication was speculative, rather than realised,

because it is not the sort of matter than can be

known. One was confident to make the prognostication

because the other astrological symbols in the chart

had been realised but one would not want to put too

much weight on the one part of the prognostication

that has not been realised. However, having said

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this, it is by no means clear why repetition is

necessary. The prognostication of the timing of the

purchase was made in accordance with the rules of

astrology and to ask for repetition is simply to

refuse to account for it. It may never be repeated

because there never will be an occasion exactly the

same.

It is difficult, I think, to argue that the

experience of the astrology working in our example

chart is not open to public scrutiny. This does not

mean that there are not astrological experiences which

are essentially private or inner. The degree to which

an astrological experience is open to public scrutiny

will vary. For example, some astrologers provide

guidance on past lives. They follow the rules of

astrology in that they use the traditional meanings of

the planets and houses and extrapolate from those

meanings to provide guidance on past lives. It is

quite possible that their clients experience astrology

“working”. However, in this case we cannot argue that

the experience was open to public scrutiny because it

is not possible for anyone to know if one really did

have a particular past life.

What seems to be necessary is that the astrology

refers to an event, or to something, which is subject

to public scrutiny. Sharf, in his discussion, argues

that what distinguishes a public experience from an

inner experience is that a public experience must have

an originating event to which the experience refers

(1998: 109). In most cases the astrological

experience will have an originating event which means

that whether the astrology fits the event is open to

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public scrutiny. This will be the case even with

personal matters. For example, a „problem with my

mother‟ or a „problem with my girlfriend‟ are events

which we can all relate to and comment on even though

they are personal.

It might be possible for the scientific

researcher to argue that our example chart, being a

horary question, is not typical of most astrological

enquiries. They might point to those astrologers who

argue that astrological practice is purely

psychological and say that most astrological enquiries

are concerned with providing a character assessment

and that these are sufficiently vague that they could

be produced by any horoscope. If they are able to do

this and, as already mentioned, we are still waiting

for their first example chart, then it will be a case

of an imprecise context which, as we have already

said, is open to public scrutiny and can be

criticised. However, from the fact that such cases

might exist it does not follow that all astrological

experiences fall into this category. Indeed, most

will not because the client will have a specific

matter in mind and that specific matter will provide

the originating event.

It is, perhaps, worth pointing out that the

argument that an astrological character analysis is

not an objective character analysis, or does not

conform to an objective character analysis, is no

argument at all. Let us assume that astrologers are

unable to provide a character profile which conforms

to any character profile determined by an “objective”

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test74 and let us assume that the client has a self-

confirming bias to accept the astrological character

profile as “true”. Thus, he/she thinks think the

astrology works because they think – erroneously –

that the character profile provided by the astrologer

conforms to the standards of an “objective” character

profile which is “true”.

This, however, is an argument about nothing.

What the astrologer provides is an astrological

profile which the client might find pertinent even if

it does not conform to their “true” character as

determined by an “objective” test. There is no reason

why the astrological profile should be the same as an

“objective” character profile. Indeed, it is by no

means clear that people will find their “objective”

character profile pertinent.75

Thus, what matters for the astrological profile

is not whether it conforms to an “objective” profile,

if such profiles exist, but whether it relates the

concern of the client. This concern of the client is

the originating event and not the “objective”

character profile.

When considering astrological experiences and how

we are to account for them, whether there is an

originating event to which the astrology is referring,

so that the process of applying astrological symbol to

context is open to public scrutiny, is important.

Thus, what matters is not how flexible astrological

techniques are, a matter one can argue about, but

74

I am by no means convinced that such “objective” tests are possible. 75

The Carlston (1985) experiment suggests that people are unable to recognise their own

“objective” character profiles, so, in that test at least, it is likely that they did not find their own

“objective” character profiles pertinent.

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whether the astrology refers to an originating event.

Our example chart there is an originating event – a

house purchase. The way that the astrological

symbols were applied to that event is something which

is open to public scrutiny. There is nothing unique

about that example and it is our contention that most

astrological experiences do contain an originating

event. The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos is

meant to account for those experiences.

c) Astrology as fantasy

The final criticism is that the Responsive Cosmos is

an irrational assumption which leads to fantasy. For

Mather “if nothing is testable, then astrology becomes

indistinguishable from fantasy” (2008: 54). This is

an extremely narrow understanding of fantasy which

would put many of our everyday observations into the

realm of fantasy. When my brother asks me whether he

should take up a new job offer and I say “no”, giving

him my reasons, it hardly seems appropriate to call my

statement fantasy, although we will never know how the

job might have worked out. The problem for Mather

seems to be that astrologers make claims that they

think are based on facts - astrological effects which

have been empirically verified – when no such facts

have been shown; if astrology cannot be empirically

tested then, because astrological judgments rely on

facts, it must be fantasy because these facts do not

exist. However, it should be clear by now that

astrologers are not making claims based on empirical

facts.

191

It might be argued if astrological interpretations

cannot be verified with reference to facts they can

only be fantasy. However, this would only follow if a

fantasy meant any statement which did not obtain its

purchase in the world with reference to facts.

Astrological interpretations are about the real world

and people‟s actions in it, but, as we shall see,

these interpretations do not obtain their purchase in

the world with reference to scientific facts. If

astrologers were to be using “facts” in their practice

the term would not mean the same thing as the

scientist‟s definition of a fact, because, as

Oakeshott says, when he compares the discourse of

science to that of practical activity (what he calls

practice): “‟Fact‟ and „not fact‟ are, in each

activity, differently determined: and scientia is

conditioned throughout by its impulse to construct a

rational world of consequentially related images, an

impulse which constitutes a different universe of

discourse from that of practice” (1991: 508).76

If we consider our example chart, we can see that

the claim the judgment is based on fantasy, or is a

judgment in the realm of fantasy, is wrong. The house

is now being lived in and it transpires it is the

“right” house (in that to the enquirer it feels right,

something confirmed by both her statements and

actions), so the judgment was not fantasy, nor was it

illusory or a figment of the imagination. No claim is

76

The issue of an astrological “fact” has, to my knowledge, never been addressed in print. One

problem is that many astrologers, mistakenly, still see astrological symbols as universally

representing things in the world which would make them facts according to the discourse of

science. The other problem is that, as we will see, astrological symbols can represent things in

the world but not on a universal basis, which makes any discussion of astrological “facts”

potentially confusing.

192

being made that any of the rules being followed in its

interpretation are empirical rules; nor is the

judgment impaired by the absence of empirical evidence

to support astrology. One is left with the thought

that what is happening is that, because astrology does

not fit into the world view of some of its critics and

cannot be articulated in terms of their preferred

voice, it is simply dismissed as fantasy, that being

an “easy way out” (see Willis and Curry 2004: 120).

The argument that the Responsive Cosmos is an

irrational assumption follows two different lines of

thought. The first argues that it is simply a

concoction created to avoid the problem of being

falsified; claiming a non-human agency or divine power

is simply an attempt to avoid the issue of forty years

of failed empirical tests. The second line of

argument is that it makes no sense to suggest that a

non-material being can have an effect on the material

world - there is no reason to assume it.

The first line of argument is correct. The

Responsive Cosmos is a creation and has been put

forward as a hypothesis to account for the public

astrological experiences that astrologers have.

However, it is not a scientific hypothesis because it

cannot be proved or disproved empirically. Instead it

is a hypothesis which will stand or fall on its

ability to account for these public experiences and on

whether it can elucidate the practice of astrology.

The criticism that it is a construction that avoids

the issue of empirical tests and being falsified is a

criticism which misses the point. It is not meant to

be a hypothesis which can be falsified. It is not

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trying to avoid the issue of empirical tests because

it is being promulgated to account for matters which

lie outside the remit of such tests. This has

implications for the quality of information that

astrology provides. What this information consists of

and what we can say about it will be discussed in the

next two chapters.

The second line of argument leads no where. One

cannot show that a non-material agency can have an

effect on a material plane but to suggest that it

might is not an unusual idea. We are certainly at

liberty to reject it or to abstain from comment, but

if we object to others accepting it then we are simply

refusing to accept an alternative point of view.

There is no necessity for us to reject the hypothesis

of the Responsive Cosmos on the grounds that it is

irrational.

With this point in mind it is constructive to

consider what some philosophers have said about

religious belief. Wittgenstein makes the point in his

Lectures of Religious Belief (1966), that if evidence

was available for religious belief "this would in fact

destroy the whole business" and, as far as the issue

of belief is concerned, "Anything I normally call

evidence wouldn't in the slightest influence me"

(ibid: 56). James argues that in the religious sphere

rational arguments about belief will only appeal to us

if they coincide with our feelings about belief (1984:

83-85). Thus, what we might believe in the religious

sphere is justified in a different way to what we

might believe in the non-religious sphere of life

because our religious beliefs cannot be verified, one

194

way or the other, not being subject to the usual

methods of verification.

There are three issues. The first is whether we

believe in the Responsive Cosmos; the second is

whether it can account for astrological experiences.

A third issue is whether the hypothesis of the

Responsive Cosmos can be verified. This third issue

does not necessarily impact one way or the other on

the first two issues.

The Responsive Cosmos promulgates a non-human

agency and moves into an area which remains outside

the scope of empirical enquiry, conducted in

accordance with the strictures of a science.

Therefore, whether we accept it as a hypothesis

becomes more a matter of belief, or whether it makes

sense to astrologers as they practice, than as a

matter of empirical evidence.

If people still refuse to accept the Responsive

Cosmos, or that astrology can be seen as a form of

divination, because they are tied to a scientific

rationale - although all the work of the scientific

researchers shows that astrology is not scientific -

then there is not much more that one say and the

dialogue is likely to stop. I prefer to leave the

final words on this matter to Wittgenstein:

Very intelligent and well-educated people

believe in the story of creation in the Bible,

while others hold it as proven false, and the

grounds of the latter are well known to the

former (1972: 336).

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Chapter Six: Quality of the astrological information

Introduction

We have placed astrology outside the scientific realm

and promulgated the hypothesis that the Responsive

Cosmos is involved. We have argued that an

astrological enquiry is not an attempt to gather

information which is subject to empirical verification

but is an attempt to obtain guidance from the

Responsive Cosmos. However, if the information is not

subject to empirical verification it is necessary to

clarify what sort of information it is and indicate

how it might be evaluated. In this chapter we will

discuss the quality of the information provided and

the specific issues of what is meant by accuracy and

the implications of the information being non-

falsifiable.

The astrological enquiry

One of the factors included in our understanding of

the Responsive Cosmos is that it is not capricious and

is essentially benevolent. This forms part of our

starting assumption because without this quality of

essential benevolence there would be little point in

asking the Responsive Cosmos for advice or guidance.

From this we can say at least two things about

this enquiry. The first is that it is necessarily

moral. It is necessarily moral because it consists of

asking the Responsive Cosmos about a given matter; the

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moment one asks the Responsive Cosmos for guidance one

is asking another entity who is benevolent and a moral

process in the broadest sense is started. The second

follows from this and is that the astrological enquiry

is significantly different to a scientific enquiry and

is not subject to empirical verification. This must

be the case because moral guidance will be evaluated

in terms of one's own moral beliefs, which in most

cases has nothing to do with verification tests but a

great deal to do with how one views the Responsive

Cosmos.

Therefore, how one views the quality of the

information or guidance received from the Responsive

Cosmos will depend, to a large extent, on how one

views the source of that information – the Responsive

Cosmos. In turn, how one evaluates the Responsive

Cosmos will depend on a variety of factors; perhaps on

whether one believes there is a spiritual dimension to

the universe or perhaps on one‟s own experience of

astrology in which one believes the Responsive Cosmos

is involved.

There is no right way or wrong way of viewing the

Responsive Cosmos and it must remain a personal

judgment. This personal judgment, however, will help

to determine whether or not one considers the guidance

worth having. Whether or not it is worth having is

not something to be determined by an independent test.

Accuracy

We have argued that the responses of the Responsive

Cosmos cannot be verified through empirical tests.

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For the scientific researcher accuracy requires

universality and repeatability shown through empirical

tests so they argue that astrologers cannot claim

astrology is accurate and it is best seen as

satisfaction. However, defining accuracy as

repeatability and making this dichotomy between

accuracy and satisfaction, fails to take into account

the category of enquiry that astrological enquiries

fall into.

The first issue is that what one means by accuracy

varies. The scientific researcher means repeatability

and this is one understanding. A statement like 'All

Leos are generous' requires repeatability to make

sense. In contrast, however, the statement 'That Leo

is generous' is specific and does not require

repeatability to be accurate. It is either an

accurate statement or not, depending on whether the

statement accurately describes the context.

The second issue, as we have seen, is that many

astrological statements, since they contain advice

about what-to-do matters cannot, strictly, be called

accurate or inaccurate. If one says, 'You should take

that job', one will never know what would happened if

you had not taken the job.

If one is receiving advice from another entity,

which one can choose to accept or ignore, then, as we

have just suggested in the section above, how one will

view it will depend on how one views the Responsive

Cosmos. Should one wish to describe the information

received there will be many different ways of doing

so, of which accuracy is only one. One might want to

say that past experience suggests that the information

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is reliable, that „it makes sense', that 'it is an

alternative view point'. One might describe it in any

number of ways depending on how one views the

Responsive Cosmos and, perhaps, as a result of one's

own experience of the astrological enquiry. Accuracy

- defined as repeatability - is only one of many

factors to take into consideration when evaluating the

information obtained from the Responsive Cosmos.

Non-falsifiability

The criticism made by the scientific researcher that

the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos is non-

falsifiable is, of course, correct but the implication

that this is a failing, or an attempt to avoid the

problem of verification tests is a mistake. It does

not follow that no worthwhile information can be

obtained from a concept that cannot be falsified. It

might be thought that because few philosophers of

science since Kuhn (1962) have taken falsification

seriously as a model for science, it is not an issue

which we need to consider. However, it is not unusual

for this notion to be used to criticise astrology so

it is worth looking at in more detail. We can

illustrate our point by considering the argument that

is put by Chalmers, who specifically mentions the

“fortune teller‟s evasion”, in What Is This Thing

Called Science? (1982).

Chalmers accuses Adlerian psychology, which holds

as a fundamental tenet that human actions are

motivated by feelings of inferiority of some kind, of

being non-falsifiable. He describes a man standing on

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the bank of a river when a child, nearby, falls into

the river. If he leaps into the river to save the boy

then, according to Adlerian theory, this is because he

needed to demonstrate his need to overcome his feeling

of inferiority by being brave enough to jump in. If

the man does not jump then, according to Adlerian

theory, he overcomes his feelings of inferiority by

demonstrating that he had the strength of will to

remain on the bank.

Chalmers says that, since this theory is

consistent with any kind of human behaviour, it is not

falsifiable, and therefore tells us nothing about

human behaviour: “Theorists operating in his way are

guilty of the fortune-teller‟s evasion and are subject

to the falsificationist‟s criticism. If a theory is

to have informative content, it must run the risk of

being falsified” (1982: 42).

If you do start from the assumption that all

human actions are motivated by feelings of inferiority

then it will tell you something about human behaviour,

because your explanation of what happened will be

incomplete without taking feelings of inferiority into

consideration. It is also potentially informative:

it tells you in what way the action may have been

motivated by feelings of inferiority. The issue is

whether the starting assumption – that all human

action is motivated by feelings of inferiority - is

reasonable.

Divinatory astrology starts from the assumption

that the Responsive Cosmos is involved in an

astrological enquiry, and that the astrological

process obtains guidance from it. Therefore, any

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enquiry into human behaviour using divinatory

astrology will provide information on that behaviour,

which can only be interpreted by taking into

consideration the Responsive Cosmos. If one assumes

that in some way the information flows from the

Responsive Cosmos then it is not, if you accept the

starting assumption, the sort of information that can

be falsified, but equally it does not provide the sort

of information that can be obtained from a method

which can be falsified. Therefore, for the divinatory

astrologer, the issue of falsification and non-

falsification is of secondary interest. It provides

guidance, which one can follow or reject, from the

Responsive Cosmos.

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Chapter seven – What astrology aims at or the truth of

astrology

Introduction

Chalmer‟s comment on the "fortune teller's evasion" in

the last chapter naturally leads to a consideration of

what an astrological enquiry might be aiming at. It

might be argued that if an astrological statement

cannot be falsified it cannot be aiming at truth.

However, this would be to understand truth as a form

of representative truth which can be shown through a

verification test which would imply that astrology is

untrue. The problem with this is that it puts

astrologers and astrology in an invidious position

because „aiming at “untruth”‟, „being “untrue”‟ or

„being unable to determine “truth”‟ are pejorative

terms.

In this chapter we will suggest an alternative

approach. This approach leaves the understanding of

truth as a form of representation to one side and

attempts to provide an understanding of astrological

truth by determining what astrology is aiming at:

thus, astrological truth is defined as what astrology

is aiming at. Truth understood in this way has no

impact on truth understood as a form of representation

and has no application outside astrology, or other

forms of divination. The advantage it has, for

astrologers, is that it gives value to what an

astrological enquiry aims at and prevents pejorative

statements concerning the untruth of astrology. The

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answer to the statement „is astrology true‟ is neither

„yes‟ nor „no‟ but that „astrology aims at

astrological truth‟.

That this is an issue which astrologers should

take seriously is suggested by the “Truth of

Astrology” competition which took place in 1997. In

this competition astrologers were invited to submit

essays of up to three thousand words putting forward

an argument for, or a demonstration of, the “Truth of

Astrology”. Twenty-nine articles were submitted and,

after the prize had been awarded, these articles were

summarised and commented on by Dean for Correlation

(1997/8b). The arguments were either dismissed by

Dean because they failed to conform to his

understanding of truth – Dean never defined truth but

the implication was that truth is accuracy verified

through empirical tests – or, if the astrologer had

attempted to articulate an alternative concept of

truth, put in the category of satisfaction because

“most of them conclude in effect that the truth

delivered by astrology is actually satisfaction (it

provides meaning, it enriches life, it does good)

rather than accuracy (freedom from error)” (ibid: 59).

Dean argued that a number of entries implied “that

astrology need not be true provided astrologers like

it” (ibid: 41).

Thus, it was clear that astrologers were aware

that astrology was not concerned with representative

truth but any attempt to define astrological truth as

something other than representative truth was

dismissed as “not true”. This narrow approach taken

by Dean has had the result of suffocating all

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discussion within the astrological press of what might

be meant by astrological truth and what an

astrological enquiry might be aiming at.

Truth ascription

If we are to discuss what might be meant be

astrological truth then we cannot ignore the work of

Martin Holbraad. Holbraad has conducted research with

the oracle of Ifa in Cuba and redefined a number of

concepts that they have used. His argument is that

there are a number of concepts we use in the West

which we apply to other cultures and, although we may

be aware that those concepts do not strictly apply,

often what we need to do is to redefine our own

concepts. One of the concepts he has redefined is

truth and, since we have argued that astrology is

divinatory, we need to be aware of what he says.

Holbraad tells us that his field-work led him to the

following conclusion:

… to my mind, what the ethnography shows is

that the practice of divination turns on a

peculiarly quirky reversal of the [standard]

premise of these approaches; the premise being

that truth-ascription must come after

interpretation since, logically speaking, if

diviners and their clients are to decide

whether their oracle tells them the truth,

they must first understand what it is that the

oracle is telling them. Quite to the

contrary, I would maintain that what makes

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divinatory truth so special is the fact that

practitioners put the cart before the horse in

just this respect. From the practitioners‟

point of view, what makes divinatory verdicts

worth interpreting in the first place is the

fact that they must be true (2003).77

According to Holbraad, divinatory statements are not a

matter of “getting things right” (2004) and are “not

affirmations that might, least of all in principle, be

falsified” (ibid). He argues that “divinatory truth-

claims are beyond doubt because their truth conditions

are not specified with reference to facts” (2003).

The rejoinder to this is that most divinatory

statements appear to be statements of fact which could

be confirmed as either true or false by referring to

the facts. Diviners may say that their divinatory

statements cannot be doubted but whether their

statements really are beyond doubt would seem to

depend on circumstances which are contingent – such

as, “Yes, there is a house for you in the Lake

District.” The solution, according to Holbraad, is

not to assume that there is any contradiction but to

assume that those making the divinatory statements are

using a different concept of truth, a concept of truth

which does not rely on the concept of representation.

Holbraad does this by arguing that the Ifa

diviners, when making divinatory statements, use a

“‟motile‟ view of meaning” which is “thoroughly at

odds with the ordinary idea that meanings are

77

The quotation is from an English language version of the paper.

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„representations‟ (which might „match‟ or „reflect‟

facts of the world)” (ibid). This motion comes from

the mechanics of the divinatory process; the Ifa

diviners cast palm nuts, and from these palm nuts will

choose from a number of mythical stories, then through

“divinatory interpretation” will commence a dialogue

with the client, narrowing down the stories until they

can be made to relate to the client‟s own personal

circumstances. In this way the myths are changed and

adapted, and move or are moved. This method of

establishing meaning contrasts with the

representational theory of meaning in which “meanings

must correspond to something discrete and stable”

(ibid).

In his essay on Political Discourse, Oakeshott

says something similar in his discussion of Jeanne

d‟Arc. Concerning the voices she is said to have

heard, Oakeshott says:

The injunctions of these „voices‟ were not

regarded as the recommendations of an astute

political advisor, good at guessing how things

are likely to turn out; they were recognised

as the injunctions of a deity who knew very

well how things would turn out if they were

obeyed and who could not be supposed to

recommend anything but what was best. The

„correctness‟ of these injunctions was a

function of the authority from whom they came.

If their „correctness‟ had been doubted, the

doubt could properly have been silenced by

referring to this authority and by pointing

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both to his omniscience in respect of all

those considerations which appear in

deliberations of ordinary mortals and to his

infallibility as a judge of good and evil.

That is to say, the „correctness‟ of these

injunctions was, in all respects, demonstrable

in advance, and in no respect did it wait for

the verification by the event. The

deliberation was demonstrative because it was

the deliberation of an omniscient and

benevolent deity (1991: 87).

In other words the “voices” of Jeanne d‟Arc are

assumed in advance to be true; their truth is not

subject to after-the-event verification. This is what

made them remarkable. Oakeshott is not concerned, as

Holbraad is, in redefining truth but in showing how

the concept of truth comes from the discipline itself,

and is defined by the discipline so that what we mean

by truth will vary from discipline to discipline.

Thus, each conversation will articulate its own

understanding of truth

If we consider our hypothesis of the Responsive

Cosmos and the methodology we have proposed then we

will see that both these ideas - that divinatory truth

is both assumed in advanced and defined by the

divinatory process - apply to astrology.

Astrological Methodology

The purpose of an astrological enquiry is to

provide guidance from the Responsive Cosmos. The

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methodology for doing this, as outlined above,

involves the astrologer going back and forth between

symbol and context until the correct meaning has been

found and one “knows” the symbol. The correct meaning

must be determined by the process and not by reference

to another criterion outside the process; if it were

determined by a criterion outside the process then

that criterion would have to be incorporated into the

process or the correct meaning would not be achieved.

Therefore, if our methodology is sufficient we must

assume in advance that the correct meaning is

determined by the process of "knowing" the symbol.

If we are assuming in advance that through

"knowing" the symbol we will provide guidance from the

Responsive Cosmos, which is the aim of astrology, then

we are assuming in advance that the process will

provide the truth of astrology (if we equate the aim

of astrology with the truth of astrology). If this is

the case then our assumption that the Responsive

Cosmos brings together chart and context in a way that

enables an astrologer to provide pertinent guidance

must entail the truth of astrology. If this was not

the case our starting assumption would be

insufficient. The Responsive Cosmos would only be

involved in the coming together of astrology and

context in a way that would enable the astrologer to

provide guidance from the Responsive Cosmos - what

astrology is aiming at - when an alternative criterion

of truth had been fulfilled. The involvement of the

Responsive Cosmos would be an unnecessary extra

assumption because what would matter is whether or not

the alternative criterion had been met.

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However, with this understanding, there is a

difference between astrological truth and astrology

“working”. We have defined astrology “working” as an

interpretation which is pertinent to the matter being

considered, and we have said that in many cases the

client will determine whether it is pertinent or not.

In most cases, the astrologer will be realising the

symbols with input from the client so that the

information provided will be pertinent to the

situation. However, if it is how the client reacts to

the information, along with the views of other people

who might be observing, that are our most important

criteria of pertinence, and if it is the astrologer

who realises the symbol in order to determine the

“true” meaning of the symbol, then the test for

pertinence takes place after “truth” has been

established and cannot form part of our criterion for

the truth of astrology. It must be excluded because

it would imply a separate test to determine whether

the “true” meaning of an astrological symbol was

“true”, which would be incoherent. The second test

would have to become the criterion for truth but then

our methodology would fail.

The easiest way to handle this issue is to make a

distinction between relevance and pertinence.

Astrological truth must be relevant to the context,

and our criterion for relevance is determined by all

those involved in the interpretation who may discuss

its relevance during the interpretative process. To

“work”, however, the astrological interpretation must

be pertinent to the situation which is determined

after the interpretation has been made. Usually,

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those involved in determining pertinence have also

been involved in determining relevance so the

interpretation will be both relevant and pertinent,

but this is not necessarily the case.

Types of truth

Thus, astrological truth - like the divinatory truth

of the Ifa - is assumed in advance and is derived from

astrological methodology. It is because astrological

methodology does not contain any reference to

empirical test work that astrological truth cannot be

a form of representative truth which tries to match

astrological interpretation to facts in the form of a

correspondence. That would be the type of truth a

scientific astrology would aim at. Similarly, if

pragmatic truth means that something “becomes true, is

made true by events”78 then astrological truth cannot

be a form of pragmatic truth because a separate or new

criterion is required to determine if the matter has

been made true by events. This new criterion, since

it must be applied after the interpretation has been

made, cannot form part of our astrological

methodology. We would, therefore, have to conduct

tests to determine whether "knowing" the symbol was

made true by events and it would be logically possible

for “knowing” the symbol not to be made true by

events, so the only way to determine if astrological

truth – what astrology is aiming at – had been

78

According to James, for Pragmatists “Truth happens to be an idea. It becomes true, is made

true by events” (quoted from The Cambridge Dictionary of Philosophy (1999: 446). If events

make something true then it does not fit our understanding of astrological truth, which is true

prior to the events.

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achieved, would be to carry out these additional

tests. As we would have no way to distinguish between

"knowing" the symbol when it did lead to astrological

truth, and "knowing" the symbol when it did not, we

would always have to have tests on the "knowing".

This would mean, however, that our methodology of

“knowing” the symbol would be insufficient and, by

itself, would fail.

For Oakeshott the truth provided by a discipline

is determined by that discipline and is particular to

it. He proposes a version of the coherence theory of

truth in which there is no absolute criterion of truth

and “truth is determined by criteria internal to the

world in which it is asserted” (Nardin 2001: 39) in

which “the idea of coherence necessarily functions as

a metaphor, not as a technical concept” (ibid: 22).

As a metaphor, we can say that the only theories of

truth which are coherent for divinatory astrology are

theories of truth which rely on the methodology we

have outlined above and that this will entail

ascribing truth to the process and not testing the

results of that process for truth.

Our criteria for astrological truth

The process of making an astrological interpretation

consists of two steps. First, we must determine

whether the chart is radical - whether the

astrological symbols are an adequate description of

the matter being looked at; if they are then, with the

involvement of the responsive cosmos, the astrology

and context has come together in a way that will

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enable the astrologer to provide relevant guidance.

The second step is the realisation of the astrological

symbol, when the astrologer, through the process of

divinatory dialogue, grounds the symbol in the context

being looked at, and “knows” that he/she has found the

right interpretation.

For the chart to be radical, for the chart to have

any relevance to the matter being considered, some of

the astrological symbols will have to relate to the

matter being looked at. If they do not, the chart is

not radical and the Responsive Cosmos will not have

brought together chart and context in a manner which

enables an astrologer to provide guidance. Thus, some

sort of correlation between the astrological symbols

in the horoscope and the context being considered is

entailed by our starting assumption. However, what is

entailed is not something which can be considered a

form of representative truth. Any representation

would only hold for the particular matter being

considered, for the unique collection of circumstances

in which a particular chart and a particular context

are brought together, and would have no implications

outside that context. There are many ways that

astrological symbols can be applied, and a particular

application in a particular context has no necessary

impact on another application of the same symbol in

another context.

We can, then, specify the criteria for

astrological truth. Two factors are required: the

first is a radical chart; the second is the

realisation of the astrological symbol by the

astrologer through the process of "knowing" the

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symbol. When these two criteria are fulfilled, we

have astrological truth. Cornelius has described this

as “the moment of astrology” and, consequently, we are

defining the moment of astrology as astrological

truth. It is a truth unique to that context, and

which pertains only to that context. As Cornelius

says, “When the diviner says, „the truth‟ he or she

means not „my truth‟ or „your truth‟ but THE truth for

those concerned in this circumscribed and unique

situation” (2007).

Implications for astrology

If we accept that the truth of astrology is ascribed

through the astrological process and that the process

is assumed to provide that truth then much of what we

have said about astrology falls into place. We have

already argued that astrology is not subject to

empirical verification, is non-falsifiable and is not

directly concerned with accuracy. None of these

points would make any sense if the truth of astrology

were something which could be verified after the

event. There is a further point. We have argued that

astrology assumes the involvement of the Responsive

Cosmos which brings chart and context together so that

the astrological symbols can be interpreted by

astrologers. This is what astrology aims at and is

the truth of astrology. Thus, there is no essential

difference between the assumption of the Responsive

Cosmos and the assumption that truth is ascribed

through the interpretive process. Thus, astrologers

when they practice assume the truth of astrology

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before they start. Bird's ethnographic study on

astrologer‟s in education suggests that this is what

astrologers actually do:

In sum, astrology‟s practice benefits greatly

from – possibly even relies upon – the belief

of each involved party, in Smith‟s pre-

Cartesian sense of that word, that it is an

efficacious activity; at least if a

satisfactory astrological experience is to be

had by all (2006: 143).

For Bird, astrology “works” when all the parties

assume that it “works” in advance and it is not a

matter of determining after the event whether it has

“worked”.79 Thus, an astrologer might say, "I think

that analysis of Jupiter doesn‟t fit. Jupiter is

working this way in my chart, not that way”. The

astrologer assumes that astrology works and it is only

a matter of how Jupiter is working. In contrast the

critic might simply say, "That analysis of Jupiter

does not work" and leave it at that. Holbraad

provides an example of an Ifa diviner who accurately

tells a client that his fridge was broken but, as he

points out, had the fridge not been broken the diviner

"would simply project the problem in terms of past or

future difficulties” (2003). In other words, the

divinatory interpretation is not to be analysed for

79

It is likely that the scientific astrologers would agree with Bird, largely because she has used

the word “satisfaction”. They will assume that to be “an efficacious activity”, representative

truth must be shown, and, as it cannot be shown, all involved, who expect it to be representative

truth, will have to believe in its efficacy or else they will not be “satisfied” with the lack of

representative truth. However, for reasons already explained, the scientific astrologers are

mistaken in equating efficacy with accuracy.

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truth; the interpretation is true and it is matter of

how it can be applied.

With this in mind it is possible to understand

the equivocal divinatory statement disparaged by

Chalmers and others. The astrologer or diviner is not

trying to have it both ways so that they cannot be

proved to be wrong; they are opening up a dialogue

with the aim of reaching the truth; the truth is

assumed in advance and it is a matter of finding it.

When astrology does not work

It is possible that an astrological interpretation may

be demonstrably false. Usually there will be a

process of divinatory dialogue so this will not happen

as the astrologer will be trying to find an

interpretation which fits the context. However, on

occasion it will happen.

Holbraad provides an example of a woman who is

told that she has a problem with her mother, although

this prognosis makes no sense to either her or to her

mother (2008). In this case the diviner made his

interpretation without adjusting it to take into

consideration the thoughts of the client. What makes

this logically possible is that different sets of

criteria for determining truth are being used. In an

astrological context we would say that the

interpretation is astrological true, by definition,

because it has been determined through a process of

knowing a symbol, but we would say it is false in

terms of representative truth, because the

interpretation does not correspond with the world,

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and, if the interpretation is not taken up by the

client, it is not a form of pragmatic truth. There is

no contradiction in saying that an interpretation is

astrologically true but representatively false because

we are using different criteria.

Problems will occur for the astrologer when the

issue being addressed seems to require

representational rather than revelatory truth.

Astrology has often been used to find lost objects. I

was once asked to help a man find a wedding ring and I

can use this example to illustrate a number of the

points we have been making.

From the horoscope drawn for the time I heard the

question, I said that he would find the ring and

suggested he looked in the laundry basket; he found

the ring in his wife‟s sock. From the point of view

of the truth of astrology, my reaction was, „That‟s

how Venus worked out in this chart‟ – Venus revealing

the whereabouts of the ring, with his wife‟s sock

being, perhaps, a better significator for Venus than

the medley of clothes in a laundry basket. As far as

I was concerned the truth of astrology had been shown,

as I considered my correlation of Venus with an area

in the house as little more than speculation.80 In

contrast, his reaction was, „You got the first part

right but not the second‟, sounding quite glad that

the representational truth of astrology was not

“proven”.

80

Whether one will find a lost object is relatively easy to determine, so there is likely to be a

sense of “knowing”; however, I dislike trying to determine where the lost object might be

because it is difficult to narrow down all the possible places in a house that an astrological

symbol might be significant for, especially in a house one does not know.

216

But what would have I have said if he had not

found the ring? Or what would I have said if he had

found the ring after I had said that he would not find

it? Assuming that I had not made an error with the

astrological symbolism, I would have said that the

revelatory truth consisted of what the astrology said

and that this is what the Responsive Cosmos wanted him

to take into consideration. Given that it was a

wedding ring that had been lost, a “wrong” answer may

well have reflected on the overall context, which

would have included his relationship with his wife. A

“wrong” answer becoming part of an overall

interpretation which provides revelatory truth is not

absurd because it is appropriate that all the

circumstances surrounding the interpretation become

part of the interpretation. Besides, as Bird says,

“In a world laden with potential meaning, the lack of

an apparent message is as meaningful, after all, as a

clear answer” (2006: 145).

Equally, it is possible for there to be two

astrological truths for the same matter. This will

not happen often but it is logically possible. If two

different astrologers consider the same matter then it

is possible that they will produce two different

interpretations both claiming to "know" the symbol.

Again, there is no problem with this. They may be

considering the same matter but the context is not

exactly the same because one context involves one

astrologer while the other context involves the other

astrologer. Each astrologer will bring their own

concerns, presuppositions and understanding of the

world to the context. Their particular "knowing"

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becomes the truth of the overall context which

includes those concerns, presuppositions and

understanding of the world. It should only pose a

problem if one claims that the truth provided is more

than it is. It is astrological truth which is

concerned with guidance from the Responsive Cosmos

which applies only to the particular context.

Metic and revelatory truth

Holbraad defines divinatory truth as revelatory truth

whereas Curry has argued that astrological truth is a

form of metic truth (2004, 100). Metic truth is a

form of truth that would come out of the astrological

process as opposed to being verified after the event.

Metic truth suggests that through the astrological

process a form of cunning wisdom is produced which is

appropriate for answering the what-to-do type

questions of divinatory astrology. However, for

reasons which will become clear I prefer to equate

astrological truth with Holbraad's notion of

revelatory truth.

Holbraad tells us that during the divinatory

process of the Ifa diviners there are two ever moving

trajectories. First, there are the ever-changing

myths from the Ifa tradition in the mouths of the Ifa

diviners, and second, there is the personal history of

the client, his/her personal circumstances, which is

also changing and in motion. These two trajectories

meet at the point where the diviner is able to relate

the myth to personal history. The meeting point is

considered a coincidence by a sceptic, because the

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interaction is non-causal, but it can also be used to

distinguish the non-divinatory statement from the

divinatory statement. With a causal interaction (a

non-divinatory statement) it would be possible to

attempt to link the events “in an implicitly temporal

order to form causal „chains‟”, whereas with a non-

causal interaction (a divinatory statement) the motion

involved makes this impossible, “so that its job

becomes one of arriving at „events‟” (2003). This

event becomes a temporary definition at the point

where the two trajectories meet. Holbraad relates

this to the difference between “how” questions and

“why” questions. “How” questions are causal but

however many “how” questions you ask and answer, there

will always be a “why” question as a final question.

For the Ifa diviners, “interpretation is

constitutive to the definition of divinatory truth”

(Holbraad: 2003). Thus, “if the process of

interpretation is premised on the motility of meaning,

then motion is also the ontological ground of

divinatory truth as such. So… truth must in this case

be defined precisely as the event that results out of

the meeting of causally independent trajectories of

meaning…” (ibid). This event is the singular

divinatory statement. Holbraad calls the truth

revelatory: “For at issue here is not the veracity of

the way things are thought about or represented, but

rather the capability that things – moving things –

have to reveal themselves to each other, when they

come into relation through mutual proximity” (ibid).

The astrological process is similar, with the

same requirement of personal history and with meanings

219

that are partly, although not wholly, derived from

myth. There are a plethora of different astrological

techniques and hundreds of different meanings that the

various astrological symbols can represent. These are

the rules of astrology. It is difficult to see the

rules of astrology as a trajectory, which implies that

they are going from one point to another point, but we

can see them in motion, subject to change and never

static. We then have an astrological chart. This

chart will usually come out of the client‟s personal

history; it will be a fixed point in time but may

relate to some time in the past, or even some time in

the future. We then have the astrological

interpretation.

The myths of the Ifa diviners are adapted and

changed to fit the client‟s personal history. It is

not exactly the same with the astrological

interpretation. The chart, along with the matter

being enquired about, will determine the parameters of

the astrological interpretation. If you are asking a

question like “Is there a house for me in the Lake

District?” then the conventions mean that the ruler of

the Ascendant will signify the person asking the

question and that the ruler of the fourth house will

signify the house in the Lake District. Thus, it

would be incorrect to say that the astrological

interpretation is not contingent on anything; it is

contingent on the horoscope drawn up for the time of

the question, it is contingent on the matter being

enquired about and on the astrological tradition.

However, there is an attempt to adapt the astrological

symbols to the client‟s personal history through the

220

negotiation of the symbol, when one tries to ground

the symbol in the context in order to realise it.

We can say, then, that the meaning of the

astrological symbol is contingent on the horoscope,

the matter being looked at and the client‟s personal

history, but it is not determined by those

contingencies. Ultimately, it is determined by the

astrologer who creates divinatory space and negotiates

the symbol. It is the astrological interpretation

which fixes the meaning of the astrological symbol in

a way that provides guidance on the context and,

therefore, it also must be constitutive of divinatory

truth.

Rather than envisaging this as two non-causal

trajectories which converge at a certain point, it

might be better to envisage it as an amorphous,

continually moving mass (the rules of astrology) with

a trajectory that runs through that mass (client‟s

personal history), with a circle on that line

(horoscope), and a dot in the middle of the circle on

that line (astrologers‟ interpretation). The mass and

line are in motion; they are demarcated by the circle

and then fixed by the interpretation. This

interpretation is, by definition, revelatory truth.

Astrological truth, then, consists of the revealed

meaning, in a particular situation, of the

astrological symbol. It is because it involves two

distinct matters – the horoscope and the rules of

astrology on one side and the client‟s personal

history one the other – that I prefer to follow

Holbraad and consider it a form of revelatory truth

when the two collide. Metic truth does not suggest

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the coming together of two different factors but one

line which continues to move towards its ultimate

objective, a line which is not straight, that moves in

different directions, but remains one line.

That the meaning provided is the truth of the

situation being considered is assumed in advance and

is not subject to after-the-event verification. Both

the Responsive Cosmos and the astrologer are

necessarily involved in the process: the Responsive

Cosmos is necessarily involved in the coming together

of horoscope and client‟s personal history, and the

astrologer is involved through the process of

interpretation.

Conclusion

We have argued that astrological interpretations are

not subject to empirical verification tests. If this

is the case they cannot be aiming at a form of

representative truth. Therefore, it is necessary to

show what astrological interpretations do aim at and

what notion of truth they are using, because, as Curry

says, “The astrologer‟s work would be impossible

without a notion of truth that is ultimately as

demanding and precise, and potentially possesses as

much integrity in his or her own sphere, as the

corresponding notion for scientists in theirs” (Willis

and Curry 2004: 100). Therefore, following

Oakeshott, we have proposed a form of truth which

comes from the methodology of astrology. From our

starting assumption of the involvement of the

Responsive Cosmos, if our methodology for astrology is

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to be both sufficient and coherent, we must assume

this truth in advance. That the divinatory process

assumes what it aims at - its truth - is confirmed by

the findings of Holbraad's ethnographic research with

the oracle of Ifa.

Holbraad considers divinatory truth revelatory and

we accept his understanding. He makes the point that

“From the practitioners‟ point of view, what makes

divinatory verdicts worth interpreting in the first

place is the fact that they must be true” (2003).

However, for the purposes of this thesis what is

important is that we have shown that astrology has a

coherent aim which has nothing to do with

representative truth and that those who think in terms

of representative truth have failed to understand the

aim of the astrological enquiry. This is important

because if one agreed that astrology did not aim at

representative truth and left it at that, astrological

interpretations would be labelled as “untrue” and that

would be pejorative. It would enable those

unsympathetic to astrology or divinatory practices in

general to dismiss it and complain that astrologers

and diviners do not produce unequivocal statements.

It would result in the closure of discussion and study

as opposed to opening up such studies. For example,

it is unlikely that this recent addition to the

scholarly discussion on divination would have been

made if the writer held the belief that the purpose of

divination was to obtain information which conformed

to a form of representative truth and that the

practice of divination should be evaluated

accordingly:

223

It [divination] stands between the world as

humans experience it on an everyday basis, and

other worlds that they can only imagine but

which threaten to impinge upon their everyday

world in deleterious ways: the world of the

dead, the world of the gods, the world of the

past and the world of the future – this last

of which includes (perhaps worst of all) the

world of alternative, competing choices, whose

divergent ramifications cannot be seen until

one irreversibly embarks upon them.

Divination is not only (perhaps not even very

frequently) a way of solving a particular

problem in and of itself, but rather a way of

redirecting the problem out of one of those

other worlds, in which it seems to be rooted,

and into the everyday world, where one is

better able to solve it with human skills

(Johnston 2005b: 279).

This opens up rather than closes down scholarly

discussion of divination.

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Chapter Eight: Bricolage and language games

Introduction

We have now reached the stage where we are in a

position to consider the main models that astrologers

have proposed to elucidate astrological practice.

The two which will be considered in this chapter,

strictly speaking, are not models because they do not

provide sufficient detail and are insufficiently

developed. They are better understood as ways of

considering astrology. In chapters nine through to

chapter twelve we will consider the more detailed

models which are meant to account for astrological

practice.

Astrology as a language game

The view that astrology is a language game, in the

Wittgensteinian sense, has been promulgated by

Harding, and is fully discussed by Bird (2006: 148-

160). Harding argues that, for Wittgenstein,

“language has a multiplicity of meanings which emerge

from their use” (2004: 170); that “we cannot formulate

a rule that will explain which is the correct meaning”

(ibid: 171) and that “unless we understand the context

in which something is said, we will not know what the

word means” (ibid: 172). Harding points out that “Lee

Lehman‟s Book of Rulerships lists nearly six hundred

objects, situations or concepts that can be signified

by the Moon”, in order to illustrate that astrological

225

symbols are multivalent (ibid: 175). His aim is to

show that astrological symbols are not

representational (2004: 174), that the planets are not

causing astrological effects on earth (ibid: 176) and

to make the point that, because we are dealing with a

language, if we seek:

… a place outside of language, some point that

sees the world, sees how language „works‟ and

observes the relationship between it and the

world. All our attempts here would fail, as

they would be conducted within language, and

not from the point we are seeking, a place

which is impossible to conjecture (ibid: 177).

There is nothing here with which we disagree and the

point about importance of context for choosing the

meaning of an astrological symbol is one we have

already made. However, if one stops the analysis at

this stage, one is open to Bird‟s criticism that it

does not help “to judge between separate styles or

manifestations of the astrological language game”

(2006: 158).

The problem is that Harding has not detailed what

the language game consists of, how it is to be played,

nor on what assumptions it rests. All human

discourses will be language games in their own right;

they will follow their own particular rules and

traditions, and will be based on their own

assumptions. Wittgenstein asks:

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But how many kinds of sentences are there?

Say assertion, question, and command? – There

are countless kinds: countless different kinds

of use of what we call „symbols‟, „words‟, and

„sentences‟. And this multiplicity is not

something fixed, given once for all; but new

types of language, new language games, as we

may say, come into existence, and others

become obsolete and get forgotten (1976:

23).81

He then goes on to list a large number of different

ways in which we use words, which he calls language

games. Astrology uses symbols in a particular way so

it is not incorrect to deem it a language game but as

a description it is, to use Bird‟s words, “barely

useful as anything other than a pleasing descriptive

trope” (2006: 158). To say that astrology is a

language game does not say enough.

In other essays, Harding outlines the methodology

he thinks is involved when choosing an astrological

significator. He takes what he considers to be a

phenomenological approach and argues that “chart

factors reveal, not what we are, but how we experience

and interpret our lives” (1993: 155). Thus any planet

could be the significator of a bee:

… which is the true significator of the bee in

any one instance will depend not on some

objective fact, but on how the bee has been

81

For Philosophical Investigations references are to note numbers.

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encountered: has it stung us or brought us

honey? In other words, it is our experience

of what the world has revealed that signifies

the astrological meaning of the bee (1997:

15).

This is a similar process to the one we have outlined

above. One negotiates a symbol by seeing which

astrological symbol fits the context of what one is

looking at. However, Harding still does not go far

enough in his analysis and it remains open to the

criticism that it is entirely arbitrary.82

The problem is that if we have an experience of a

bee then one of the astrological symbols we use in our

practice will be a “best fit” description of that

experience, and consequently, whatever the horoscope

and whatever the experience of the bee, we will be

able to describe that experience through astrological

symbols. Harding tells us that “astrology is a

language. It is a way of describing that is not

random or arbitrary” (1993: 156) and elsewhere he

says, “It has the potential to speak with an authority

given to no other system of signs, for its

signification is not arbitrary” (1994: 100). In this

he is correct but he does not show why it is not

arbitrary nor where its authority comes from; what his

analysis requires is both a methodology which removes

the arbitrary nature of choosing an astrological

82

It is possible that both I and Bird are being slightly unfair to Harding. Harding‟s astrological

mentors were Addey and Harvey. He uses the same techniques that they used – mid-points and

harmonics – although they are hardly popular today – and co-wrote a book with Harvey. His

mentors believed that astrological symbols reflected neo-Platonic underlying laws, so it may be

that what was important to him was to show that there was no reason to assume this, and that

having made this point he saw no reason to take his analysis further.

228

symbol and a methodology for determining whether the

astrological symbol is a good fit and describes the

context.

The former is provided by the rules of astrology

and the latter by the process we have called,

following Cornelius, “realising” the symbol. We can

illustrate this by considering our example chart. It

would have been possible to have asked the client how

she experienced this potential new house, and if she

had said “as a sense of freedom” one would have known

to assign Jupiter to the house. However, this was not

the reason we assigned Jupiter to the new house; we

assigned Jupiter because, following the rules of

horary astrology, it is ruler of the fourth house

which is significant for houses in general. That

Jupiter is also significant for “loosening of bonds”

and aptly describes the emotional experience of the

querent reinforces our conviction that the horoscope

is radical and during this process we “realise” the

symbol of Jupiter. If Jupiter were not ruler of the

fourth house, or if the querent did not experience the

prospect of the potential new home in a manner fitting

for Jupiter, then we would have had good reason to

question whether or not the chart was radical and fit

to be judged.

A further problem with Harding‟s methodology is

the lack of a responsive cosmos. Harding rejects the

idea that astrological symbols represent things or

laws but he still has to answer why the horoscope

should have any relevance for the matter being

considered. We have postulated that the Responsive

Cosmos brings together the astrology and context in a

229

manner that allows the astrologer to provide pertinent

guidance. Harding does not provide an explanation but

the question does not go away: if it does not conform

to a natural law – which Harding rejects – then why

should it be relevant to the context? What Harding

requires is the assumption of the Responsive Cosmos.

The Bricoleur

The idea of the bricoleur has been imported into

astrology in order to describe the astrological

process. It is a concept borrowed from Levi-Strauss

(see Levi-Strauss 1966: 16-33). Levi-Strauss is

trying to characterise mythological thought, which he

calls “an intellectual form of bricolage” (ibid: 21).

He says that the following formula can constitute a

definition of bricolage: “in the continual

reconstruction from some materials, it is always

earlier ends which are called upon to play the part of

means: the signified changes into the signifying and

vice versa” (ibid).

Intellectual bricolage consists of using previous

symbolic interpretations to recreate new meanings for

those symbols. “The possible combinations of which

are restricted by the fact that they are drawn from

language where they already possess a sense which sets

a limit on their freedom of manoeuvre” (ibid: 19).

Thus, Bird describes one astrologer as a bricoleur

(2006: 162) and was taught by another astrologer who:

… suggested that it was inappropriate for

astrologers to apply modern engineering

230

methods to their craft; they were – not so

much engineers – as odd job bricoleurs who

crafted and re-crafted new-for-old meanings

from their multivocal horoscopic symbols in

response to the ever-changing circumstances of

the daily lives of their clients (2006: 182).

Even if it is inappropriate to apply engineering

methods to astrology one does not have to import a

concept from a foreign language to make the point:

one can just say it and explain why. There is nothing

wrong with anything that the astrologer said but it

adds nothing to our understanding of astrology that

could not have been added by describing her own

astrological practice.

Levi-Strauss says, “The engineer works by means

of concepts and the bricoleur by means of signs”

(1966: 20). The astrologer also uses signs so one can

say that this distinguishes the thinking of an

engineer from the thinking of an astrologer. However,

nothing has been added by introducing the bricoleur, a

profession or manner of thinking most English people

will be much less familiar with than they will be with

that of an astrologer. Rather than clarifying what it

means to think astrologically, or describing what the

astrologer does, it is describing a different process

and saying that astrology is like that, but it is

unlikely that astrology is exactly like that.

Bricoleur thinking is mythological thinking and

astrological thinking has similarities to it because

mythic meanings are one of its components, although

even this is disputed: Elwell says, “I don‟t have any

231

great faith in mythology as a guide to the

significance of the planets” (Vlamis 1994: 353).83

This might suggest that astrological thinking is not

exactly the same as mythological thinking. For

example, the account Levi-Strauss (and Bird‟s teacher)

gives of mythological thinking differs from

astrological thinking in that it has no rules for

determining which symbols to consider. In our example

horoscope we considered three planets, but the choice

was not arbitrary because it was determined by the

astrological rules we were using.

But even if astrological thinking were exactly the

same as mythological thinking, nothing could be gained

by going one step away from what one is studying. It

does not help that bricoleur has no adequate

translation into English but Levi-Strauss provides a

literary example of a bricoleur with whom many people

will be familiar – Mr Wemmick from Great Expectations.

This example shows the problem. If I wanted to

explain astrological thinking to a sympathetic

observer, I would suggest they read Elwell‟s book The

Cosmic Loom, or the books of other astrologers I judge

competent. I would not point them to Great

Expectations because I would have to explain why Mr

Wemmick‟s thinking is astrological. Another layer of

explanation would be required and in that layering we

would be moving further and further away from what we

are concerned with. In contrast, no further

explanation is required if I recommend Elwell because

83

I use this quote in the full knowledge that Elwell does use mythological meanings in his own

astrology as our analysis of his work will makes clear. However, the point holds: there is more

involved than myths.

232

he is an astrologer and thinks astrologically. I

could add that, as far as I am concerned, the

similarities between Mr Wemmick‟s type of thinking and

astrological thinking are scanty at best. It is true

that Mr Wemmick, when at home, does not think like an

engineer but I would hesitate to suggest that he

thinks like an astrologer, although Levi-Strauss

provides him as an example of a bricoleur.

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Chapter Nine - Astrology as a new science

Astrology as chaos

Brady is well aware of the problem the lack of

empirical evidence creates for astrology, and she is

also cognisant of the many problems that surround

empirical test-work and astrology, having been

responsible for a number of the experiments herself.

Her work on chaos theory is intended to do two things;

first, to provide a theoretical background for an

astrology which would fit into a scientific paradigm

of chaos. This would be an astrology which does not

always behave in exactly the way expected, that can be

chaotic, but will eventually form an ordered pattern,

or at least a pattern; and secondly, she wants to show

that this astrology does not require the involvement

of a responsive cosmos but allows “it to reserve its

mystery and wonder through a form of divination, or

pattern reading but without the causal gods” (2006:

foreword);84 so that it becomes, as she puts it,

“divination without the gods” (ibid).85

She does this by taking chaos theory, as used by

psychologists when dealing with family history, and

mapping their methods onto the practice of astrology.

Briefly her analysis (in my words) is as follows:

84

Brady‟s italics. 85

Brady‟s “gods” is a nomenclature equivalent to a non-human power and similar to my

“responsive cosmos” although she views the “gods” as a causal power, whereas I consider the

Responsive Cosmos to be causal. Indeed, if the “gods” were causal, I would expect a natural

law supported by empirical evidence to be found. However, if there is a natural law there is no

need to postulate the “gods”.

234

You start with chaos. On the edge of chaos

there is a series of meaningless coincidences

and these will start to form an ordered

pattern. The SDIC86 are the initial

conditions, which are the equivalent of birth

times initiating a birth chart. These can be

mapped onto a phase portrait, which is the

equivalent of a horoscope. The phase portrait

will have attractors, around which objects

move, and basins, the area of influence for an

attractor; these are the equivalent of

zodiacal and planetary combinations. A

bifurcation is a change in the pattern, and a

saddle point is a place where a bifurcation

can occur, which would be equivalent to a

sensitive point on a horoscope. Repeating

themes, or patterns, called self-similarity or

scale invariance, are similar to the

astrological use of planetary cycles.

Homeostasis, which is the ability of a system

to resist change, is similar to an astrologer

grading the potential of life-changing events.

Lock-in, where a pattern is resistant to

change, is similar to the symbolic meaning of

a planet.

If chaos theory does become the new scientific

paradigm then astrologers will map astrology onto it,

as some psychological astrologers have mapped the

86

Sensitive Dependence on Initial Conditions: “A term in chaos theory which states that small

changes at the beginning can lead to disproportional results” (Brady 2006: 166).

235

horoscope onto Jung‟s map of the psyche.87 Brady

specifically tackles the problem of empirical evidence

by saying that:

[the practice of astrology] endeavours to map

patterns that give information about the

quality of a life or an object in a

relationship-rich environment. Such systems

are now known to be non-linear and as

astrology was co-created by humanity in

dialogue with the heavens it is logical that

it, too, is a complex system unresponsive to

reductionism. So astrology is unable to

respond to the experimental methods of the

linear dynamic world as it cannot yield

consistently to statistical methods, nor can

it be replicated in the laboratory setting, or

indeed in any setting. Self-similarity is not

the same as duplication (ibid: 107).

So, from chaos, astrology forms patterns but not in a

way that will “yield consistently to statistical

methods”.

Brady indicates neither what astrological practice

consists of nor what sort of methodology it uses. She

is not interested in the sort of study Toulmin argues

is appropriate for the humanities. Instead, what she

has proposed is a general theory to provide a rational

basis for astrology so that it does not have to resort

to non-human agencies like the Responsive Cosmos. The

87

See Hyde‟s book, Jung and Astrology, for a full criticism of this procedure.

236

attempt fails because the theory cannot tell us why an

astrological chart should have any relevance for a

life or entity on earth. If in a world of chaos

astrology does not yield to statistical methods there

is no reason to assume it is relevant to our lives.

What Brady requires is the Responsive Cosmos to bring

together astrological chart and life or entity in a

way that enables the astrologer to provide pertinent

guidance. Thus, she fails to show “divination without

the gods” because without the Responsive Cosmos there

is no reason to assume anything will happen at all.

We can illustrate the problem by considering the

work of psychologists, who are now starting to use

chaos theory in their work. If a psychologist wants

to use chaos theory when working with clients and

decides to draw up a phase portrait, using the SDIC of

parents, home, environment, sex, nationality and

family history, then this would make some sort of

sense, because one might reasonable assume that all

these factors could play a part in the life of a

client. One might also assume that there is some

empirical evidence available to back up the use of

these SDIC factors in drawing up the phase portrait,

or, if this empirical evidence was non-existent, that

it is desirable.

In contrast, there is no reason to assume that a

birth time is a valid SDIC for making a phase portrait

unless you already believe in the efficacy of

astrology. It may be possible to map astrology onto

the new paradigm of chaos, but there is no reason to

do so unless you are assuming that astrology “works”;

that astrology has something to say about the matter

237

being considered. Thus, the Responsive Cosmos is

assumed.

There are other problems. How can you determine

planetary meanings? If astrologers see a pattern in

the sky and correlate it with something on earth and,

over time, this meaning becomes “locked in” because

the pattern is resistant to change, then these “locked

in” meanings ought to be shown by empirical tests. If

they can be determined by empirical tests then chaos

theory is an unnecessary part of the explanation,

although it can remain as a background paradigm. If

they cannot be shown by empirical tests, then how are

the meanings determined? In what sense can they be

“locked in”? And there are many astrological

techniques which would seem to defy this chaotic-

theory analysis, as they do not rely on patterns: for

example, the lots, and planetary rulerships. Thus,

chaos astrology would exclude parts of extant

astrological practice.

That the model starts from the assumption that

astrology works is a problem Brady seems to be aware

of because, she says, “The existence of these emergent

self-organising patterns in astrology is not proof of

astrology but is instead proof of the presence of the

chaotic paradigm” (ibid: 89). Thus, whereas she might

be successful in her first aim of showing that

astrology is compatible with chaos theory, the second

aim, of showing that astrology does not require a

responsive cosmos, has not been shown, because in the

absence of empirical evidence, or some other reason

for assuming that the astrology of the horoscope will

238

be relevant for the matter being considered, there is

no reason to use astrology at all.

239

Chapter Ten: Elwell’s correspondences

The "new science" of medieval correspondences

Elwell aligns the astrology detailed in his model with

the "new sciences" – he does not detail what those new

sciences might be - although he produces a theory

which relies on the medieval theory of

correspondences. Unlike Brady, he seems to be

completely unaware of the problem created for

astrology by the lack of empirical evidence and starts

with a bold claim: astrology “demonstrates that there

is another way of looking at the universe, another

angle from which everything takes on a different

appearance” (1999: 4) and then goes on to say, “Now it

is precisely because astrology testifies to an

unbroken wholeness that scientists will be

increasingly in difficulty in denying its rationale.

The reason is that physics itself has been discovering

the underlying interrelatedness of all things” (ibid:

6).

The underlying interrelatedness of all things

takes us back to Plotinus and the enchaining through

the One which he believed showed the efficacy of

divination (1991: 2.3.7) and to the Chinese conception

of the relation between the microcosm and macrocosm

which Eliade believes has permeated all thought, but

arguable this sort of thinking reached its apogee with

Cornelius Agrippa and others during the Medieval

period. This is Elwell's "new science" and it goes

without saying that even if both astrology and physics

240

show the interrelatedness of all things, it does not

follow that they will show them in the same way.

Elwell's astrology

According to Elwell, astrology connects the various

parts of the world through the theory of

correspondences. Thus, Saturn is associated with

certain matters such as heaviness and coldness, so

cold and heavy things will naturally accumulate around

Saturn. As he says, “whenever one feature of a holon

occurs it will invariably be in association with other

features belonging to the same holon” (1999: 54).

This becomes the “Cosmic Loom” of the title of the

book.

Elwell provides many impressive examples of this

interconnectedness. One of which is his discussion of

the astrological symbolism of the Statue of Liberty,

“that most famous of American images” in the horoscope

of the Declaration of Independence of the USA. He

finds it in that chart‟s Jupiter-Venus conjunction,

because since classical times, “Jupiter Eleutherios

has been the protector of liberty” and the statue is

in a female form and made out of copper, both

associated with Venus. The statue was moved to it

site in New York when transiting Venus had come to the

degree of Jupiter in the Declaration of Independence

chart and, further, when it was dedicated there was a

conjunction of Venus and Jupiter in the sky. The

conjunction of Venus and Jupiter in the Declaration of

Independence chart takes place in the sign of Cancer

and the location for the statue, of New York, “would

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add to its endorsement, because this city has long

been connected with the sign of the Moon” which rules

Cancer. This connection is rooted in history because

the Dutch boat which first sank anchor at what was to

become New York was called the Half Moon, and because

the Dutch were on a hunting trip for beavers, “said to

be a moon creature, perhaps because it is so at home

in or by the water, for the Moon and Cancer have

strong watery associations”. New York, the name the

settlement was finally given after the English

takeover, honoured the English city of York, and “for

centuries astrologers have spoken of York itself as a

Cancer city”.88 Indeed, the pet name for New York is

Big Apple, appropriate because “Jupiter corresponds

with bigness, and the apple‟s association with Venus

goes back at least as far as classical mythology”

(ibid: 101-105).89

Elwell has used his astrological skill to make

a number of successful predictions. Perhaps his best-

known is when he wrote to two shipping companies, one

of which was P&O, warning them of the danger of

accidents at sea. Elwell was concerned by the March

1987 solar eclipse which had astrological similarities

with the eclipse that coincided with the sinking of

the Titanic in 1912. Nine days after P&O responded to

his letter, saying that their safety measures were in

order, the P&O ferry The Herald of Free Enterprise

sank with the loss of one hundred and eighty-eight

lives. There were other accidents at sea at that time

but the words “Free Enterprise” are indicated by the

88

Elwell does not say why York is associated with Cancer. 89

Elwell provides many associations and connections which have not been included here.

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astrology: the eclipse fell close to Jupiter

(freedom) placed in Aries (enterprise) (1993: 21-22).

Problems with Elwell's model

The first problem with this model, if it is meant to

elucidate extant astrological practice, is that it

concentrates on one strand of that practice.

Astrologers do use correspondences to derive

astrological meanings but they use many other factors

which cannot be called correspondences. For example,

they use astrological houses to determine meanings,

they use the speed of the planets to determine

meaning, they use aspects, and they use all manner of

other factors. Many of these Elwell would like to

discard because he holds the view that astrology is in

a state of perpetual evolvement and will at some point

reach a Golden Age. Therefore, his model is not a

model to elucidate extant astrological practice but to

reform astrology so that astrologers follow Elwell's

preferred methodology.

Elwell simply ignores the analysis which would be

involved if he was cognisant of Toulmin‟s four lost

insights of the humanities. It is not that Elwell‟s

astrology is not participatory or is not concerned

with the individual rather than the general, but that

Elwell is unaware of the issues involved. Indeed,

Elwell would like his model to provide a universal

theory of astrology, although he appears to be unaware

of the support such a theory would require.

That Elwell fails to elucidate extant

astrological practice would not matter if he could

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show why astrology should be reformed. However, his

model can never do that. The first problem is a minor

one. It is by no means clear, even in the short

example of his work that we have provided, what holon

could connect Jupiter with bigness, Jupiter

Eleutherios, the sign of Cancer, watery matters, and

the Moon. These factors are connected through the

practice of astrology – all astrologers will accept

that Jupiter is significant for them – but it is by no

means clear that there is one „core‟ value which links

them together. Thus, astrologers use the physical

nature of a planet to help determine what it

significant for - Jupiter is a big planet, so it is

connected with bigness – and myth – hence the

connection with Jupiter Eleutherios – while within the

rules of astrology Jupiter is exalted in Cancer and

the Moon rules Cancer, which is a watery sign.

However, there is no holon involved, in the sense of a

core value, or core something, from which we can

derive these significations. They are derived from

factors which are only connected through the

astrological tradition.

If Elwell wants to show that all planetary

meanings naturally associate round individual holons

he will need to show that the rules of astrology were

developed from these individual holons and not take

these rules as given, which is what he does. Indeed,

there is no agreement among astrologers as to why

Jupiter is exalted in Cancer. It is a piece of very

old lore which according to Valens‟ Anthology, the

first extant text book of astrology, has been handed

down by “the ancients”. There is no reason to assume

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that astrological significations were ever developed

from some undefined holon and, as we shall see, good

reasons to assume the contrary. However, this,

although a serious problem, is not the main problem.

The main problem is Elwell's extraordinary claim

that astrology - knitting together different areas of

life, creating different categories consisting of

things which would not normally be associated with

each other, in a way which shows the sort of

interconnected world postulated by new theories of

physics - is on a par with the scientific view of the

world, which has been backed up by empirical evidence.

It is, of course, an alternative way to view the

world, but that is not the same as saying that it is

an alternative objective reality. It may be a view of

the world that astrologers use successfully, as

Elwell‟s own prognostications illustrate, but to show

that this was an alternative objective reality one

would have to show that there is a greater than chance

likelihood of Saturn matters actually agglomerating

with Saturn - and other appropriate matters

agglomerating round the other planets - but this is

something which has not been shown, and it seems

extremely unlikely that it ever could be shown.

The problem with any theory of correspondences is

that it will usually be possible to find some sort of

correspondence between any two things. Dean argues

that “it is impossible to specify any two things, no

matter how dissimilar, that do not show some kind of

correspondence” (1996: 28) and goes on to say that “A

speck of sand is like the Empire State Building

because [it is the] same colour, contains silica, same

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number of atoms as bricks” (ibid). An astrologer

would not use a non-astrological correspondence like

this in their practice but as Dean points out, there

is no method for determining a “magical”

correspondence from other correspondences.

An astrologer will follow the astrological

tradition but if the claim is that the efficacy of

astrology shows that there is an alternative objective

reality which can be compared to the reality shown by

the science of physics, then providing example after

example of how astrological correspondences fit will

not be enough. One would have to explain why the

correspondence that “fits” shows the existence of an

alternative reality and why the reasoning used does

not apply to the correspondence that does not “fit”.

If one assumes the alternative reality in advance and

the efficacy of astrology is used to confirm that

assumption then the argument would be circular. It

would also be necessary to show that it is not

possible to produce two streams of correspondences

which are contradictory to each other. This has not

been attempted; it would require a considerable amount

of empirical evidence and there is no good reason for

assuming that evidence would be forthcoming.

Elwell‟s own argument shows that he does not

understand what will be required if he wants to

convince the scientist (which presumably he does

because he says “that for the first time it is

legitimate to speak of astrology as a science” (1999:

ix)). His argument consists of referring to

astrological history and arguing that “the planets

known to ancients acquired their astrological

246

significance in three ways”: first, by experience

they concluded some planets were friendly and some

unfriendly (“hands on familiarity with the effects of

the planets in divination”); second, by drawing on the

attributes of the deity assigned to the planet (“a

sense that the planets were active spiritual

beings…still pursuing their own individual

objectives”); and third, by placing them in the

classical system of the four elements of Fire, Earth,

Air and Water (“fitting ideas about the planets and

zodiac into a larger „scientific‟ scheme”)(ibid: 89-

90).

In this way there is a natural progression from

the original divination of the ancients, in which they

scanned the sky for messages from the gods, to the

science of today in which experience shows what effect

on Earth correlates with each of the planets. Thus:

Classical ideas of planetary meanings have

been progressively refined, and (rarely)

changed, down the centuries in the light of

further experience. Like every other science

(using the word merely to indicate a body of

knowledge) astrology continues to evolve, and

it is hard to visualise a time when it could

be declared „finished‟ (ibid: 92).90

However, there is no reason to think that this is

actually how astrological significations were

developed - there are no extant empirical studies.

90

This understanding of science is not our common understanding of the description and does

not seem to be the understanding Elwell uses elsewhere in The Cosmic Loom.

247

There are extant Babylonian observations, but that is

not the same thing at all. The earliest extant list

of planetary significations can be found in Valens‟

Anthology. This list gives no reason to think that

the planets Jupiter and Venus were classed as

“benefic” and so separated from the “malefic” planets,

Mars and Saturn, as a result of empirical observation.

It is much more likely that they were part of an

astrological system in which there were two benefic

planets balanced by two malefic planets, and that

within that system the malefic planets were square and

opposite the Sun and Moon (square and opposite being

considered difficult aspects) while the benefic

planets were in beneficial aspect - sextile and trine

– to the Sun and Moon.91

If empirical evidence had been the determining

factor then one would expect graduations of benefic

and malefic characteristics in the significations of

all four planets, but this is not the case. In

general all the significations for Venus and Jupiter

are good while all the significations for Saturn and

Mars are bad. The exceptions are for matters like

parts of the body, where the label of good or bad is

inappropriate, or careers, because Mars will produce

successful generals, while Saturn will produce

successful administrators.

91

The Moon and the Sun were placed next to each other in their signs of Cancer and Leo. The

closest planet to the earth was Mercury, which was placed in the two closest signs to Cancer and

Leo, namely Virgo and Gemini, both of which Mercury rules; the next closest planet is Venus,

placed in the next two signs, Libra and Taurus, both of which Venus rules and are sextile the Sun

and Moon respectively; the next planet is Mars, placed in Scorpio and Aries, both of which it

rules, square the Sun and Moon respectively; the next planet is Jupiter, placed in Sagittarius and

Pisces, both of which it rules, and which are trine the Sun and Moon; the final planet is Saturn,

placed in Aquarius and Capricorn, both of which it rules, opposite the Sun and Moon.

248

The following is what Valens says Saturn is

significant for:

The star of Kronus makes those born under it

concerned about trifles, slanderers, those who

bring themselves into disrepute, solitary,

deceitful, those who conceal their deceit,

austere, downcast, those who have a feigned

appearance, squalid, black-clad, importunate,

of sorrowful countenance, miserable, given to

sailing, and those who work at waterside

trades. And it causes depressions, torpors,

inactions, interferences with what is being

done, long-lasting punishments, dismantlings

of things, concealments, constrictions, bonds,

griefs, accusations, tears, cases of

orphanhood, captivities, exposures. It also

makes labourers and farmers because it has

authority over the earth. It produces tax and

customs collectors, and forced activities. It

procures great reputation and notable rank,

guardianships and the administration of the

affairs of others, and father of the children

of others.

It has authority over lead, trees, and stones.

Of the parts of the body, it has authority

over the legs, knees, tendons, blood-serum,

phlegm, bladder, kidneys, and the inner

private parts.

It is indicative of whatever hurts are formed

from cold and moisture; for example, it is

indicative of those who suffer from dropsy,

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pain in the tendons gout, cough, dysentery,

tumours, spasms, demoniac possession,

unnatural lust, depravity.

It makes those who do not marry, and

widowhood, orphanhood, and childlessness. It

produces violent deaths in the water or

through strangling or bonds or dysentery. It

also causes falls upon one‟s face.

It is the star of Nemesis and of the diurnal

sect, castor-like as for colour, astringent as

for taste (1993: 2-3).

The dominant theme of negativity in this list would

seem to indicate that Saturn is malefic and this

determines the sort of things for which Saturn is

significant. It also shows the problem with Elwell‟s

other two claims - that planets acquire their

significance from myth and “science”. It is not clear

to what extent any of the above significations could

be derived from myth. That is not to say that myth is

unimportant, since it is clearly a factor in some of

the significations of the other planets, but it is by

no means the only factor. How a planet appears in the

sky is also a significant factor, as is how it moves

in the sky.

The “science” that Elwell has in mind is the

Aristotelian science – that all things contain

inherent qualities of hot, cold, moist and dry - which

Ptolemy used to develop his own framework for

astrology. However, it is clear that Valens was not

putting these significations for Saturn into this

larger scheme, and that this “science” cannot be used

250

to explain these significations. For instance,

according to Ptolemy, Saturn was a cold and dry planet

because of its distance from the warming sun and the

moisturising earth, but, according to Valens‟ list,

Saturn is considered significant for sailing,

waterside trades and various illnesses caused by cold

and moisture. Ptolemy may have been trying to impose

a “scientific” framework on extant astrological

significations but the framework he provided did not

fit those significations. Still, it would sit side by

side with them through to the seventeenth century (see

Brockbank 2003).

Elwell says that these planetary meanings have

been developed and refined over the years but this, at

best, is a half truth. It is true that astrologers

have added to the body of significations and it is

also true that the more recently discovered planets

Pluto, Neptune and Uranus have taken on many of the

meanings originally given to the seven other planets

(see Lehman 1992: 9-11). However, the significations

of the seven original planets remain available for any

one to use, if they wish. Indeed, now that Valens‟

planetary significations have been translated into

English, those significations are available for use,

unrefined, for any English-speaking astrologer who

chooses to read Valens. What seems to be the

determining factor in astrological usage is what the

astrologer‟s actual practice requires (see Brockbank

2003).

When planetary significations have been added to

the tradition, it has not been because of empirical

tests conducted in accordance with scientific

251

methodology. We can illustrate this with reference to

Elwell‟s own method of determining planetary

signification. He tells us that when the asteroid

Chiron was first discovered, he was able to study its

effects against a background of autobiographical data

that he had been compiling since 1947. This enabled

him to say that the specific gift of Chiron is “the

audacity to attempt what might at first seem beyond

our scope” (1999: 95-96). He contrasts this with the

signification for Chiron in general astrological

usage, taken from mythology, of the “wounded healer”,

and complains that the problem with mythology is that,

“You can pull out of the pie any plum you fancy”

(1999: 98-99).

This, of course, is the exact criticism that could

be made of Elwell‟s method. Given that he is

conducting the research himself, there is no guarantee

that the meaning he gives to Chiron is objective and

not simply a preferred plum and that, once chosen, he

has not subconsciously assumed there is a repetition

of that meaning. To convince a scientist, it would be

necessary to conduct tests in which a proposed meaning

for Chiron was matched up against important transits

of Chiron for a number of biographies of people, none

of whom would be involved in the tests, and compared

to other times in their lives when there were no

important transits of Chiron taking place in their

charts. The aim would be to show that the proposed

meaning of Chiron would have more relevance to their

lives during important transits of Chiron than at

other times. However, Elwell does not do this, and

does not seem to realise that it is necessary,

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although without this evidence why should the

astrologers who find that Chiron as a “wounded healer”

is useful in their practice give up that symbolism?

As discussed, Elwell finds that the appropriate

astrological symbolism for the Statue of Liberty in

the USA‟s Declaration of Independence horoscope is the

Venus-Jupiter conjunction in Cancer. However, Elwell

then extrapolates from this, using a theory of

correspondences, to claim that there is an alternative

reality, an alternative way in which the world is

interrelated, which “implies a differently structured

universe” (ibid: 42). This may be acceptable as a

claim, depending on what one means by structure.

However, Elwell wants to compare his alternative

structured universe to the objective universe of

modern science and this cannot be done without

empirical support, especially given some of the

problems already outlined for the theory of

correspondences. Elwell appears unaware of this and

seems to believe that the evidence from astrological

history and his own personal experiences are

sufficient. They are not. The evidence of

astrological history suggests that astrological

significations are not based on empirical findings,

while the evidence from his notebooks does not conform

to the scientific requirements for empirical evidence.

The need for the Responsive Cosmos

Astrologers would generally agree that the Statue

of Liberty is signified by the Venus-Jupiter

conjunction; Elwell finds that the statue has been

253

moved to New York and been dedicated during important

Venus-Jupiter transits, while the Big Apple is

suggestive of the symbolism of Venus and Jupiter.

This is what many astrologers find inexplicable. The

astrological symbolism is there but, according to the

rigours of science, it does not count for anything and

can apparently be explained away because the theory of

correspondences is too loose. However, this is the

wrong way to consider the matter. Without the support

of science, one cannot make the claim that there is a

differently structured universe, but it does not

follow from this that the only way one can explain the

coming together of astrological symbolism and context

is as the result of reasoning errors, or a loose

theory of correspondences.

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos would

lead one to expect (though with no guarantees) that

when one looks for the symbolism of the Statue of

Liberty in the horoscope for the Declaration of the

Independence, one will find it. If one does not find

it one will have to decide that chart is not radical

and choose one of the alternative charts for the

United States. Whether or not this can be supported

by empirical evidence showing that similar statues

were also moved during Venus transits is of little

relevance. If the astrological symbols describe the

context then the Responsive Cosmos provides sufficient

reason to expect that astrological chart to provide

pertinent information about that context.

254

Conclusion

Elwell fails to recognise what Oakeshott calls a

difference between a language and a text. Oakeshott

wants to make a distinction:

… between a „language‟ (by which I mean a

manner of thinking) and a „literature‟ or a

„text‟ (by which I mean what has been said

from time to time in a „language‟). It is the

distinction, for example, between the

„language‟ of poetic imagination and a poem or

a novel; or between the „language‟ or manner

of thinking of a scientist and a text-book of

geology or what may be called the current

state of our geological knowledge (1991: 192).

Using the medieval theory of correspondences is part

of the language of astrology; the manner of

astrological thinking. The use of this language,

which Elwell demonstrates in Cosmic Loom, is not the

same as a text. The text would consist of these

correspondences being converted into the rules of

astrology or aphorisms. If one wanted, one could

conduct empirical tests on rules of that text. Those

empirical tests might or might not have an impact on

the language. What one cannot do – which is what

Elwell tries to do - is to assume that because the

language is effective any text derived from it must be

an empirical statement about the world.

The problem with what Elwell proposes in the

Cosmic Loom is not the astrology, which follows the

255

astrological tradition of correspondences, but the

claim that these correspondences underlie the

structure of the world. There is no reason to assume

they do. If there is no underlying structure to the

correspondences, then they become another strand of

astrological thinking, a way to create astrological

meanings and significance. If this is the case then

an astrologer can follow Elwell's methodology, if they

want, but no compelling reason to abandon their own

preferred methodology has been provided. Thus,

Elwell's model of astrology fails to elucidate extant

astrological practice and fails to show why an

astrological chart has any significance for the matter

being considered. What he requires to bring it

together, to use his theory of agglomeration with

confidence, is the Responsive Cosmos bringing together

chart and context so that prognostications can be

made.

256

Chapter Eleven - Archetypal astrology

Introduction

Archetypal astrology, like Elwell's theory of

correspondences, can never elucidate extant

astrological practice, or, as we shall show, account

for all the techniques that astrologers use. It is,

therefore, another attempt to reform astrology.

However, the model has the same flaws as Elwell's and

has little to recommend it. Indeed, whereas Elwell's

model illustrates the use of correspondences, a valid

form of astrological thinking, there is no clear

reason to use archetypes at all. However, despite

this, the ideas behind Tarnas' model - that archetypes

underpin astrological practice - remains popular,

possibly because archetypes form a part of the

teaching of many psychological astrologers, probably

the most popular form of modern astrology.

Tarnas promotes his neo-Platonic model as an

alternative to the divinatory approach of which the

proponents of his model have been critical.

Surprisingly, Cornelius' divinatory approach is also

inspired by the neo-Platonic philosophers. In this

chapter we will discuss archetypal astrology in

detail, in the chapter twelve we will consider

Cornelius' approach and in chapter thirteen consider

how such divergent astrological models could have

developed from the same sources and some of the

problems that this entails.

257

a) Archetypal astrology in detail

Tarnas defines an archetype as follows: “a universal

principle or force that affects – impels, structures,

permeates – the human psyche and the world of human

experience on many levels” (2006: 84).

However, these archetypes have a “multivalent

indeterminacy” which “opens up ontological space for

the human beings‟ full co-creative participation in

the unfolding of individual life, history, and the

cosmic process” (ibid: 87). It is this complexity –

the involvement of the individual and the ability of

an archetype to express itself in many ways – which

makes statistical testing unsatisfactory: “Such tests

are both incapable of registering archetypal

multivalence and blind to the necessity of full

participatory engagement in the act of cognition”

(ibid: 462).

But archetypal research is still important:

“Only a range of data and a depth of research

commensurate with the profundity of these issues can

provide the possibility of their resolution” (ibid:

133).

Thus, Tarnas is quite clear why scientific tests

on astrology fail. First, they do not take into

consideration the multivalent nature of archetypes,

which means the effect they have does not always

manifest in the same way. According to Tarnas:

Many diverse factors appear to play

determining roles in shaping how an archetypal

complex is concretely embodied: cultural,

258

historical, ancestral, familial, and

circumstantial. To these must be added such

factors as individual choice and degree of

self-awareness, as well as, perhaps, karma,

grace, chance, and other unmeasurables (ibid:

132).

And second, they ignore the important participatory

element of an archetype which, again, influences the

way that it will manifest:

The evidence suggested that each individual

drew out different and often multiple elements

of the archetypal complex in accordance with

the varying cultural and biographical

circumstances in each case. Many factors

appeared to influence these differing

expressions of the same complex, including

what seemed to be the unique and unpredictable

creative response of each individual in

assimilating that particular complex (ibid:

128).

This is surely correct. If an archetype manifests not

only in a varied way but also in a way which is unique

to each individual because it depends, in part, on

that individual‟s response to it, then controlled

tests - which usually attempt to remove the

individual, and to determine whether there is

repetition - are inappropriate. This must be so

because they are not trying to capture the unique

expression of an archetype but, rather, that part of

259

an astrological effect which repeats and which

consequently cannot be explained by anything other

than the particular placement of the planets.

With his emphasis on participation and on the

unique individual occurrence Tarnas is placing his

astrology firmly in the tradition of the humanities.

His analysis includes the four lost insights of

Toulmin. He does not, however, discuss the purpose of

empirical tests, or the consequences of proposing an

archetypal astrology which cannot be adequately

tested. The consequence is, of course, that one can

make no claims for accuracy - as understood by the

scientific researchers - which would require empirical

test work to show that accuracy had been achieved.

What Tarnas does say is that, for him, making

predictions which can be tested is not important:

As with any future event, it is possible that

a combination of astrological insight,

empirical observation of the context, and the

employment of some other intuitive faculty –

divinatory, clairvoyant, and precognitive –

could have produced a specific prediction of

terrorist activity on that day [September 11th

2001]. But I believe that the contemporary

Western astrological paradigm, apart from any

contribution from an intuitive divinatory

faculty, is best understood as archetypal

260

rather than concretely predictive (ibid:

533).92

The purpose behind making the astrological

enquiry, for Tarnas, is to obtain information

emanating from archetypes which are objective

entities: “In effect, planetary archetypes are

considered to be both „Jungian‟ (psychological) and

„Platonic‟ (metaphysical) in nature: universal

essences or forms at once intrinsic to and independent

of the human mind, that not only endure as timeless

universals but are also co-creatively enacted and

recursively affected through human participation”

(ibid: 86).

Here, what is meant by objective is an entity

which exists independently of any subjective

apprehension of it. Thus, there is an underlying

world order, which impacts on humans through the

psychological, and is in turn affected through human

participation. “In Platonic terms, astrology affirms

the existence of an anima mundi informing the cosmos,

a world soul in which the human psyche participates as

a microcosm of the whole”(ibid).

When we have obtained this information the

“archetypal perspective” allows for “liberation” in

three ways: first, it opens up the possibility of

critical reflection and self-awareness; second, one

realises that the particular archetypal pattern is

92

Here Tarnas is commenting on certain astrological predictions that were made in advance of

the terrorist attack on the World Trade Centre.

261

relative, that things will pass;93 and third, one has

a sense of creative participation in a living cosmos

of unfolding meaning and purpose (ibid: 293). These

three paths to “liberation” are not benefits that

result directly from the information provided by

astrology but are a result of the astrological process

itself.

As we have already seen the scientific

researchers would label this information as

satisfaction. Indeed, the critical reflection and

self-awareness of the first way to liberation and the

sense that all things may pass of the second are

purely psychological or subjective matters. However,

from the perspective of an archetypal astrologer, what

is important is the existence of this archetypal

order. One can critically reflect and have a sense

that all things must pass as a result of an

astrological judgment, but unless that judgment has

recourse to the existence of an archetypal order

something will be missed. Something would be missed

because it would imply that the astrological judgment

is based on nothing other than certain rules created

on a misapprehension, whereas what makes the

astrological judgment important for the archetypal

astrologer is that the judgment is based on this

objective order of archetypes. Indeed, it is likely

that part of the sense of liberation results from a

belief that something more is involved. The third way

to liberation – a sense a sense of participating in a

living cosmos – requires a living cosmos which is

93

Valens who, as we have seen, believed in a fated astrology, also thought this was one of the

benefits astrology could provide.

262

assumed because of the objective archetypes. Tarnas

never explains why this is not an extra assumption.

He does not explain why objective archetypes could not

exist without a creative intelligence behind them,

forming part of the world working in accordance with

certain natural laws. Indeed, this, presumably, would

be the position of those psychological astrologers who

reject the Responsive Cosmos – objective archetypes

exist and astrological interpretations are based on

those objective archetypes. However, if we recognise

that Tarnas is making an extra assumption then we can

immediately see the similarity with the divinatory

enquiry in which the purpose is to obtain guidance

from the Responsive Cosmos.

Thus, the important difference between the

divinatory approach and Tarnas' archetypal approach is

that with the divinatory approach the Responsive

Cosmos is assumed, although it is an assumption one

makes to account for the public astrological

experience, whereas with Tarnas' approach nothing is

assumed but objective archetypes are meant to provide

evidence of a creative intelligence behind the anima

mundi. The first problem for Tarnas is to show that

these objective archetypes exist and to do this he

must explain how he replaces empirical evidence which,

he has already argued, is inappropriate for

multivalent archetypes. His argument, however,

completely fails to do this so the second problem, of

whether or not these objective archetypes do show a

creative intelligence, remains a secondary issue.

Tarnas tells us that what is required is

“archetypal research” which is different to any

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empirical evidence that would be collected by the

scientific researcher. He refers to Cosmos and

Psyche, which is an “an initial survey of evidence”

that matches historical and cultural trends throughout

the history of the Western world to the movement of

the planets, although a much larger body of evidence

remains unpublished. Tarnas argues that not many

people are capable of carrying out this research and

details the necessary skills:

What is especially required is an ability to

recognize multivalent archetypal patterns and

underlying coherences in a wide range of very

different personalities and biographies,

historical events, and cultural epochs. The

ability for such discernment is a developed

human skill, a cultivated mode of vision an

understanding that cannot be reduced to a

computer algorithm and impersonally deployed

in a double-blind study with controls (ibid:

136).

However, this statement contains a serious problem.

Even if Tarnas is correct in his view that correlating

archetypes with historical events or personalities is

difficult – and it is by no means obvious that it is –

it is unclear how one would distinguish between

someone who was skilled at putting archetype to

historical event and someone who was unskilled, and

what criteria one would use to determine who had

chosen the correct archetype. Clearly, research

264

carried out in this manner is likely to be considered

worthless by the scientific community.

The problem becomes worse when we consider what

Tarnas is actually proposing. Tarnas‟ definition of

an archetype (which has already been quoted) is: “a

universal principle or force that affects – impels,

structures, permeates – the human psyche and the world

of human experience on many levels.” In this, he is

following Jung, whom, he says, “had come to view

archetypes as innate symbolic forms and psychological

dispositions that unconsciously structure and impel

human behaviour and experience at both the personal

and collective level” (ibid: 57). Given that one

cannot observe archetypes directly, one perceives them

by a combination of assuming their existence - through

myth or work with depth psychology - and correlating

events on earth with the appropriate archetype. This

means: “A painstaking cultivation of self-knowledge

must be undertaken to avoid succumbing to mere

projection” (ibid: 55). The approach taken with

planetary archetypes is similar. A large body of

planetary meanings has been passed down through the

history of astrology. From this a rough idea of

planetary archetypes can be conjectured but then the

real work starts of correlating events on earth with

the appropriate planetary archetypes. This may mean

that the planetary archetype is added to and

embellished; it may even mean it changes completely.

However, this argument is circular. It assumes

that the planetary archetypes exist in the first place

and then determines how events on earth correlate with

those archetypes. If events do not correlate with a

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particular archetype then one changes the archetype,

which is exactly what Tarnas does in his book

Prometheus The Awakener (1995). In it he argues that

the generally accepted archetype for the planet Uranus

is incorrect and that the astrological significations

for Uranus are best explained by the myth of

Prometheus rather than the myth of Uranus.94 Tarnas

gives a sort of quasi-justification for this in Cosmos

and Psyche when he says “the astrologer‟s insight,

perhaps intuitive and divinatory in its ancient

origins, appears to be fundamentally an empirical one.

This empiricism is given context and meaning by a

mythic, archetypal perspective, a perspective that the

planetary correlations seem to support and illustrate

with remarkable consistency” (2006: 85).

The implication is that this approach can be

justified because the original planetary meanings were

empirically derived. This gives rise to two further

problems. First, by claiming an empirical basis for

his initial choice of planetary archetype, and using

this as a part-justification for his archetypal

research which he believes should replace empirical

evidence, Tarnas is using empirical evidence as part

of his argument to justify the replacement of

empirical evidence. Therefore, not only is the

argument circular but, in part, it relies on the very

thing he is arguing should be replaced. Indeed, if

the justification for the original planetary meaning

on which the archetype is based is fundamentally

empirical then one might think the appropriate action

94

This book is well known within astrological circles but it has made little difference to the way

that astrologers use Uranus.

266

would be to re-test those meanings in accordance with

modern scientific methods. The second problem is that

this claim that planetary meanings were empirically

based has no evidence to support it. As has already

been argued, the first extant planetary meanings

(found in Valen‟s Anthology) have not been derived

empirically.

However, it certainly could be argued that

planetary meanings have been derived in part from

myth, and one could postulate that they “give

structure” and “impel human behaviour”. This is

exactly what the scientific researchers say should be

tested. One could postulate that a given effect on

earth took place when the planets were in a particular

configuration, and determine whether those effects

actually occurred. If they did, one might be able to

argue that the planetary configuration had an effect,

once one had discounted other possibilities and

artefacts.

However, this is what Tarnas says is

inappropriate because an archetype is multivalent and

can work in many different ways, while each individual

on earth has a participatory contribution, so to some

extent each individual manifestation of an archetype

is unique. But if this is the case it is possible to

attribute any event on earth to one of the planetary

archetypes and the theory becomes impossible to

falsify. An event could only fail to be attributed to

an archetype if the “skilled” archetype-spotter

decided that there was no archetype that it fitted.

But if this were the case – unlikely if archetypes are

multivalent – then one would create a new archetype to

267

fit the unexplained event, because that is how we show

that archetypes exist: by correlating events with

archetypes. At some point one has to postulate the

existence of archetypes, and the effect that they

have, and carry out empirical tests. If this cannot

be done, because of the nature of archetypes, one has

to admit defeat: one cannot show the independence of

an archetype to someone who does not accept the

assumption of their existence.

The contrary argument is that even if the theory

assumes what it wants to conclude, the weight of

“evidence” is sufficient to make it a reasonable

position to hold. Indeed, many people when reading

Cosmos and Psyche may well be persuaded to the

position purely by the weight of evidence. However,

this argument cannot be used to claim that planetary

archetypes are “independent of the human mind”,

although one could, perhaps, use it to argue that

planetary archetypes can provide an explanation of the

cultural and historical changes we have experienced

over the last one thousand years - the era Cosmos and

Psyche covers.

So, Tarnas argues that archetypes exist as

independent entities because independent entities are

essential for his anima mundi, or neo-Platonic

conception of the world. That there is such an

underlying world order is an attractive idea to

astrologers but the argument that Tarnas uses does not

hold up. It is not an ad hoc argument; it does not

side-step the issue of empirical tests; it accepts the

importance of testing but replaces scientific

empirical tests with archetypal research. However, it

268

is circular because it assumes what it wants to show:

that archetypes have an independent existence. If you

do not make this assumption, you have no reason to

conclude that archetypes exist. The problem is that

Tarnas wants the authority that it is assumed

scientific tests provide, so that he can demonstrate

that there is an objective order of archetypes, but

the replacement for empirical testing that he proposes

– archetypal research – cannot provide that authority.

It might be correct to argue that controlled

scientific experiments are inappropriate because of

the multivalent and participatory nature of

archetypes; but even so, one cannot say that

multivalent archetypes are objective entities. The

circular argument that Tarnas produces will convince

no one who is not already convinced that these

archetypes exist. The problem is essentially the

problem mentioned in the introduction: if it is the

practising astrologer who determines the archetype

through their practice then those archetypes cannot be

objective and independent of the astrologer.

b) The involvement of the Responsive Cosmos in

archetypal astrology

Tarnas‟ argument has four stages: first, that

archetypes exist as objective entities, and that they

are multivalent and participatory; second, that a

subset of these archetypes is planetary archetypes;

third, that these planetary archetypes have an effect

on earth; and, fourth, that this apparent order in the

269

universe – the working of the archetypes – gives life

meaning and purpose.

If we are correct that Tarnas‟ “archetypal

research” fails to establish that there is an

archetypal order which exists as an objective entity

then the argument never starts. If “archetypal

research” provides no reason to believe in an

objective order of archetypes then all that can be

done is to assume one. However, that assumed

archetypal order is insufficient by itself to generate

astrological effects on earth. This is clear because

the assumed order cannot be inferred through empirical

observations on earth (or else it would not need to be

assumed), so the connection between archetype and

effect cannot conform to a natural law observable

through empirical test-work. If the effect does not

conform to a natural law observable through empirical

test-work, but is not random, then one must be

assuming something in addition which will connect the

assumed order and effect and enable the effect to

happen at the right time and in the right place.

To put the point another way: the archetypal

astrologer claims that there is an effect in the

material world and that there is a connection between

this effect and the planetary archetype. However,

this connection cannot be shown empirically, so it

must rest on an assumption about how the world works.

It might be argued that the “new” sciences like chaos

theory or complexity theory postulate laws which

produce effects that are not regular or ordered.

However, for this to help the archetypal astrologer it

would still be necessary to show how these laws could

270

be inferred from the non-regular effects on earth. If

they cannot be inferred then, firstly, the laws must

be assumed, and secondly, the connection between law

and effect must be assumed. What is assumed is the

involvement of a responsive cosmos in the coming

together of astrology and context at the appropriate

time, so archetypal astrology becomes a form of

divinatory astrology.

One might argue that this does not show the

Responsive Cosmos is required. If we assume there is

an underlying order which leads to effects on earth

then the fact that the effects produced by this

underlying order are variant, and that the underlying

order itself is participatory, does not mean that

those effects require a responsive cosmos. However,

if the effects from this underlying order are variant

and participatory, so that the underlying order cannot

be inferred from them, then it would be equally

possible for the effects to manifest from disorder.

We are not in a position to judge. If it is equally

possible for the same effects to manifest from

disorder or from order, and if we cannot choose

between the two, then it is hard to see how the

assumption of order is sufficient to produce the

effects. Some other assumption is required in

addition, and this assumption is that the Responsive

Cosmos is involved.

If the assumption of an underlying order is

insufficient to show a correlation between astrology

and an effect on the material world, then one might

wonder why it is such a popular position to hold,

given that the empirical evidence is against it. One

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reason might be that it is the apparent underlying

order of archetypes which gives life meaning and

purpose, and this is what Tarnas implies, but the

argument he uses is incorrect.

When discussing his research, Tarnas tells us

that, “Instead of assuming a general cosmic

randomness, as one usually would, then checking

skeptically for highly unlikely inexplicable

coincidences that might contradict the conventional

view, I now began to assume, flexibly but with some

degree of confidence, an underlying order” (ibid:

458). And, then in the following paragraph, “I found

the conventional modern assumption that the cosmos and

its processes are intrinsically random and meaningless

constituted an extraordinarily effective barrier to

further knowledge” (ibid: 459).

Thus, Tarnas assumes both an underlying order and

meaning and purpose when he conducts his research.

For him, the two are inextricably linked, but they are

actually separate matters; one might find no meaning

and purpose in an underlying order. What Tarnas seems

to believe is that there is complex creative

intelligence behind the archetypal order. To repeat a

quotation already made in chapter five:

I found there were simply too many such

„coincidences‟ evident in the data, which were

too consistently coherent with the

corresponding archetypal principles, and too

strongly suggestive of the workings of some

form of complex creative intelligence, to

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assume that they were all meaningless chance

anomalies (ibid: 488).

This assumption, of a complex creative intelligence,

is the same as the assumption of a responsive cosmos.

Indeed, Tarnas is making it for a similar reason, even

if he has not thought through that reason: in his

work he finds that astrology is constantly working and

it makes more sense to him to assume a complex

creative intelligence than that all these occurrences

of astrology working are chance anomalies. If he went

through what powers the creating intelligence must

have for these examples of astrology “working” to

occur he would find that they are the powers of the

Responsive Cosmos.

The redundancy of archetypal astrology

An archetype is universal, and the search for one is

similar to a search for a general law, which forms

part of what Toulmin considers to the modern world

view, but they engage with the individual, because one

has a participatory relationship with them, which for

Toulmin is one of the insights the modern world has

lost. Thus, the contradiction within archetypal

astrology is that it wants universal meaning but can

only provide that meaning through individual

participation. If individual participation is unique

and manifests in different ways while the universal is

general so that all individual occurrences conform to

it, this will be an insurmountable problem.

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That is one problem. The second problem, as

already mentioned, is that archetypal astrology fails

to account for extant astrological practice. By

concentrating on archetypes, on the “core” meanings

that the planets are assumed to have, the archetypal

astrologer simplifies his or her astrology and will be

unable to account for what is occurring when other

astrologers use more complicated techniques. For

example, one technique which was used by the

Hellenistic astrologers (practising from the second

century BCE through the sixth century CE) has been

detailed by Schmidt, and is now known as “zodiacal

releasing”.95 This is a technique which provides

information about the career of the client, and is

proving useful among those astrologers now using it.

It requires the astrologer to start from either the

lot of fortune or the lot of spirit (usually the lot

of spirit) with the planet which rules the zodiacal

sign in which the lot is placed having an influence

for a set number of years (depending on the sign) and

at the end of that period passing that influence on to

the planet which rules the next zodiacal sign for

another set number of years, and then on in a similar

manner. Further information can be gleaned because

each period of planetary influence is divided into

sub-periods of planetary influence, with the planets

in those sub-periods following the same zodiacal

order.

Already this technique calls for a huge number of

factors for which, quite apart from the lack of

95

Schmidt has translated many of the extant Greek astrological texts and has spent many years

reconstructing Hellenistic astrological techniques.

274

empirical evidence, there is no apparent rational

reason for accepting, other than that it would be

following what is believed to be the tradition of the

Hellenistic astrologers: the lot of spirit is not a

physical place celestially but an algorithm derived

from the positions of the Ascendant, the Sun and Moon

– an algorithm for which there is not complete

agreement in the source texts; the planets are assumed

to rule signs of the zodiacs; the planets are assumed

to have influence for a fixed number of years, years

which are derived astronomically but by modern

standards are not astronomically accurate; it is

assumed that these years consist of 360 days and not

365.25 days; and after the planetary rulers of the

first six signs have completed their periods the

sequence jumps six signs. This technique (which

Schmidt has called a “time lord technique”) is just

one of twelve which, Schmidt argues, were used in

conjunction with each another, quite apart from the

various other techniques that have to be applied to a

birth chart before one can start using “zodiacal

releasing”.96 Modern day astrologers who use the

“zodiacal releasing” technique find that “it works”,

but it would be extremely difficult to devise

archetypal “core” meanings or entities which would

account for the apparent working.

There is nothing to stop astrologers using

archetypes if they are useful. They do not first have

to show that they are objective entities. We have

96

Schmidt has not yet published his work on the techniques of the Hellenistic astrologers, which

remains a work in progress. He has, however, sold various recordings on these techniques from

which this information was taken.

275

already mentioned Vaihinger's philosophy of as if and

his claim that even science uses fictions and we have

developed a whole methodology which does not require

natural laws. Therefore, it does not matter that

archetypes cannot be shown to be objective entities,

if they are useful for astrologers in their practice.

However, it is by no means clear that archetypes are

useful. There is, indeed, extraordinarily little to

recommend archetypal astrology. They may be helpful

in psychology when describing certain abstract ideas

but it is by no means clear that this can be extended

to astrology. If we say that the Uranus is

significant for “revolution” or “breaking free from

bonds” then we add nothing to our understanding of

this by saying that the archetype behind Uranus is

“revolution” or “breaking free from bonds”. An

astrologer can use this meaning for Uranus in their

practice whether archetypes exist or not; an archetype

is an unnecessary extra layer. If an archetype lies

behind the planet, then if it cannot be shown that the

archetype exists, there is little point in using this

extra layer. Whatever characteristic the archetype

has can be given to the planet. Astrologers would be

better off to discard archetypes from their practice

(see Hyde 1992, 137 and 150 for a similar conclusion).

Conclusion

Tarnas' model for astrology is firmly bedded in the

tradition of the humanities and correctly places

astrology outside the realm of science, however, it

fails on every other count. It fails to elucidate

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extant astrological practice, as there is so much in

that practice which cannot be called archetypal; it

fails to show that archetypes are objective entities,

which is essential for the model; and it fails to show

why one should incorporate archetypes into astrology.

Tarnas assumes that a creative intelligence is behind

astrology and that this provides the best explanation

of the “working” astrology. He does not detail his

reasoning but in essence it is the same conclusion we

reach concerning the Responsive Cosmos.

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Chapter Twelve: Neo-Platonic divinatory Astrology

Introduction

The Responsive Cosmos is a hypothesis made within the

divinatory tradition of astrology, a tradition in its

modern format started by Cornelius. The methodology

we have outlined in chapter four is essentially the

methodology of Cornelius' divinatory astrology.

However, although our position is indebted to

Cornelius' work, and can best be understood as a form

of divinatory astrology, unlike him we do not find our

inspiration in the neo-Platonic philosophers.

Therefore, to distinguish our position from his I have

labelled his astrology as 'neo-Platonic divinatory

astrology'. In contrast, the characterisation of the

Responsive Cosmos does not imply any neo-Platonic

order.

The Responsive Cosmos is a term which works as a

wrapper round four factors: that it is a non-human

agency involved in the coming together of astrological

chart and context; that it is an agency which is

essentially benevolent; that it will respond to

individual enquiries and provide signs which can be

interpreted; and that its involvement in an

astrological enquiry is not guaranteed. None of these

imply a neo-Platonic order. The Responsive Cosmos is

a term which is used as a place holder for all the

other characteristics that the non-human agency might

have. Therefore, the claim that the Responsive Cosmos

is part of a neo-Platonic order, or has access to a

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neo-Platonic order, is an additional assumption. It

tells us something new about the Responsive Cosmos.

The question which must be addressed is whether or not

the practice of astrology provides any reason to

assume this neo-Platonic order. It is my view that it

does not. In this chapter we will discuss specific

issues with regard to Cornelius‟ model and in chapter

thirteen we will examine the differences between the

neo-Platonic model of Tarnas, Addey and Harvey and the

neo-Platonic model of Cornelius and discuss the

problems of neo-Platonic models in general.

The Cosmic symbol

Cornelius sees his astrology following the tradition

of the later neo-Platonic thinkers, for example,

Philip of Opus, Plutarch, Iamblichus and Ficino. In

The Moment of Astrology Cornelius says that the

astrological symbol itself is ethical, or that an

ethic is contained in the symbol (2003: 307). His

argument is that an astrologer‟s conscience is an

individual experience of an ethical relation: if the

astrologer takes up the astrological symbolism and

behaves accordingly, it becomes an expression of an

astrologer‟s conscience, and consequently the

symbolism contains an ethic. Cornelius has explained

that, in his thinking, the ethic is already contained

in the symbol implying that there is a separate order

which provides a symbol containing an ethic.

For Cornelius astrologers like Lilly, on occasion,

bring us to a point in which astrological

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interpretation borders on prophecy when we can reach a

true 'mystical' astrology:

In my view we reach here a true „mystical‟

astrology, where the separation of perceiver

and perceived is first shockingly challenged

and then dissolved. At that point we are not

„in‟ a relation with a cosmos, our „realised

seeing‟ of the symbol is itself a revealing of

cosmos. Cosmos [is] spoken here. That means

that the interpretation is an ethical

relation. This is another way of making clear

that fundamental to a hermeneutics of

divination is the recognition that the omen IS

(already) an interpretation. It is not

something „really there/empirically there‟

that we then set about „rightly or wrongly‟

interpreting.97

In other words the “realised seeing” of the symbol is

a revealing of cosmos, the revealing of another order.

This idea of a transcendental order with which

symbols can be linked has a strong philosophical

tradition which has seeped into many areas of life.

For example, according to literary critic Terry

Eagleton:

The Romantic symbol is supposed to flesh out a

universal truth in a uniquely specific form.

In some mysterious fashion it combines the

97

Email to the rs-research group 21st November 2007.

280

individual and the universal, setting up a

direct circuit between the two which bypasses

language, history, culture and rationality.

To penetrate to the essence of what makes a

thing uniquely itself is to discover the part

it plays in the cosmic whole. This idea runs

steadily through Western civilisation, all the

way from Plato‟s Forms and Leibiniz‟s monads

to Hegel‟s World Spirit, Coleridge‟s symbols

and Hopkins‟s „inscapes‟ (2007: 13).98

Other philosophers through work on the symbol have

tried to show that symbols reveal or express elements

of the divine. For example, Eric Voegelin who argued

that “the symbol is meant to express the dynamics of

divine presence” (Voegelin 1966-85: 195) and that

symbols express the experience of the universe under a

world-transcendent God (Federici 2002: 98). Other

scholars have disagreed. According to Indologist

Heinrich Zimmer, “For true symbols have something

illimitable about them. They are inexhaustible in

their suggestive and instructive power” (1956).

From our perspective whether symbols display

divine presence or not is an issue we do not need to

discuss in any depth. What matter to us is what the

astrological symbol allows or requires us to assume.

Since we have argued that the Responsive Cosmos brings

together astrological chart and context, it is clear

that the Responsive Cosmos must bring an appropriate

astrological symbol to the context. However, we

98

It is clear than Eagleton has little time for the theory, except that he likes some of the

Romantic poetry that resulted. Many others agree with him, including Oakeshott (1991: 512).

281

cannot move from this claim to argue that the

appropriate astrological symbol is an expression of

cosmos or of a neo-Platonic order. We cannot claim

this because it is the astrologer who gives meaning to

the astrological symbol by placing it in the

appropriate context. The most that we can claim is

that there is a dialogue with the Responsive Cosmos.

Essentially, this argument is, again, a repetition

of the Wittgensteinian argument mentioned in the

introduction. Astrologers give astrological symbols

meanings by using them in astrological judgments.

These meanings become part of the tradition and can be

used by other astrologer who can adapt, change,

embellish and refine those meanings in accordance with

their own practice. There is no part of a meaning of

an astrological symbol which is separate to this which

could be the Responsive Cosmos speaking by itself.

The Responsive Cosmos might place a symbol in a

specific context for the astrologer to read but it is

the astrologer who chooses the meaning of that symbol

and, consequently, the meaning chosen cannot reveal

the Responsive Cosmos by itself. It cannot reveal the

Responsive Cosmos in this way because all the meanings

of the astrological symbol are man made. To repeat:

it is impossible to show a separate transcendental

order of meanings through the astrological symbol

because astrologers at least partly determine those

meanings.

This is indubitably the case for at least two

reasons: astrological symbols, to some extent at

least are culturally determined, and the context,

which helps determine the meaning of an astrological

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symbol, is usually determined by the person asking the

question. Indeed, Bird when attending a class at the

Company of Astrologers, the school with which

Cornelius is associated, was told, “We should

understand that astrology could not help but reflect

the culture and context of its practitioners” (2006:

182). We will first provide three examples to show

that astrological symbols are, in part at least,

culturally determined and then discuss context.

The first draws on a difference between the

Western astrological tradition and Vedic tradition of

astrology in India. The main difference between the

two traditions is that the Western tradition uses a

tropical zodiac, introduced by Ptolemy, while the

Indian tradition uses a sidereal zodiac, so that the

vernal equinox moves back through the signs of the

zodiac. There are many astrological rules in Vedic

astrology different to those in the Western tradition

but it is fair to say that, on the whole, the planets

and the zodiacal signs (although the planets may be in

different zodiacal signs under the two traditions)

have similar meanings. There is, however, one

important difference and it is in regard to the Sun.

In the Western tradition, the sun is neither a malefic

nor a benefic, although generally it is considered to

have beneficial qualities because of its importance in

the horoscope; although that said, it can harm another

planet if it is so close to the other planet that it

cannot be seen. In contrast, in the Vedic tradition,

the Sun “is considered a malefic – that is, it brings

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difficulties” (Sutton 1999: 30).99 Rather than saying

that the “cosmos” speaks differently in the West and

in India, it seems more likely that the Sun became

malefic in Vedic astrology for reasons of culture

because the Sun, so hot there for much of the year, is

generally considered malefic within Indian society.100

Indeed, cultural differences in our understanding of

the Sun reach further than an east-west divide. In

the Mediterranean countries of southern Europe, in

which the Western astrology we are considering was

developed, the Sun was masculine but in northern

societies with cooler climes, such as Scandinavia and

Germany, the Sun is said to be female, since she is

considered nourishing and life-giving.

The second example concerns the way that

planetary meanings come in and sometimes go out of

astrological practice for cultural reasons.101

The

eleventh-century Arab astrologer Al-Biruni provides a

huge list of planetary meanings. For Venus, he says,

“a sodomite or given to excessive venery” (Al-Biruni

1934: 251). The earliest extant list of planetary

meanings that we have is from Valens and there is

nothing in his list which suggests that Venus might

signify a sodomite. Similarly, it is unlikely that a

modern astrology book would allow that Venus is

significant for a sodomite. How then did this meaning

99

Komilla Sutton is a well known British astrologer practising in the Vedic tradition. 100

When travelling on business a few years ago in India, my Indian colleague, reading the paper,

said, with pleasure, “Look, the monsoon is reaching Goa.” “But Lalit,” I replied, “you are about

to go on holiday in Goa.” “You,” he said, “go on holiday for the sun, I go on holiday for the

rain.” 101

Usually meanings come in and do not go out, increasing the pot astrologers can draw on if it

will help their practice, see Brockbank 2003. However, the example below is unlikely to come

back into use in our current cultural environment.

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arrive and disappear? It is hardly likely that it was

the “cosmos” speaking and much more likely that

astrologers around the eleventh century found that

they required a significator for sodomites and chose

Venus.102

Modern astrologers do not find that they

require a specific significator for a sodomite,

perhaps, because it is no longer a description that

one can use easily in our culture. Consequently, it

has dropped out of use and been replaced by the

suggestion that hard aspects to Venus from Saturn,

Uranus and Pluto, might indicate some sort of sexual

deviancy.

The final example is the system for developing

house meanings presented by psychological astrologer

Howard Sasportas (1948-1992) in his book, The Twelve

Houses (1985). Sasportas proposes that house meanings

should be derived by starting with the moment of birth

at the Ascendant and then progressing through the

twelve houses, with each house an opportunity to

develop a new facet of one‟s character, or life, until

finally one reaches the twelfth house where one goes

back to the ether. Sasportas argues that he is

returning to the “core” meanings of the houses, and

that his system underpins the traditional meanings

that have been passed down through the centuries.

That he does not realise that originally there were

two house systems – a twelve-house system and an

102

One might assume that a debilitated Venus would produce an excess of “venery” which might

be typical of a sodomite. That at any rate would be the simple explanation, although it, too,

might be a culturally determined explanation. One might also wonder why it was Venus that

gave birth to venery, because in Valens‟ list both Jupiter and Venus are significant for erotic

love. One might speculate that the male astrologers of 11th

century Arab world preferred to

think that it was the feminine Venus which gave rise to debauchery rather than the masculine

Jupiter.

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eight-house system103 – which merged and can thus

account for some of the anomalies that have been

passed down, is not the issue here.104 What is at

issue is that this is a book which could not have been

written prior to the mid-eighteenth century, since it

relies on a modern view of the world. The idea of the

development of the self, so important to modern

psychological astrologers, is not an idea that would

have occurred to astrologers from previous eras

because it is a modern idea. According to Roy Porter,

“The idea that psychological development was an

inseparable aspect of the self was taking root from

the mid-eighteenth century, stimulated by Hartley‟s

associationist account of the mind and passions”

(2004: 370).

It seems clear that the reason why Sasportas

developed this framework for house meanings was that

it provided meanings which were more useful than the

traditional meanings for the psychological astrology

which he practised. This may be “cosmos” speaking,

but if it is it is then it is a “cosmos” speaking in

response to human development.

The second reason why the astrological symbol

cannot only be a revealing of the cosmos is that the

context is set by the person making the enquiry. The

person making the enquiry has a problem, asks a

question, and becomes part of the context being looked

at. If knowing the symbol is in part a matter of

fitting the possible significations for the symbol to

103

See Schmidt (2000). 104

Any attempt to explain core meanings through a development system of houses is bound to

come at an abrupt halt at the eighth house, which traditionally is symbolic for death.

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the context, then knowing the symbol must be more than

the cosmos revealing itself, because the astrology

being looked at, which would be part of the cosmos

revealing itself, is dependent on the context set by

the enquirer, while the significator chosen by the

enquirer will depend in part of what makes most sense

to the enquirer. One might feel that one is at one

with the cosmos during this experience, but one is not

absorbed by the cosmos, it is a two-way relationship,

in which the response depends in part on one‟s own

participation.

If we consider our example horoscope, "Is there a

house for me in the Lake District?” then it is clear

that the query about buying a house sets the context.

This sets the framework for the meanings which were

realised. However, this could have been the time for

the birth of a new baby, the start of a business

enterprise, or moment that an astrologer decided to

look at the transits over his natal sun. All of these

would have provided a different context which in turn

would have led to different interpretations about

different matters. These interpretations would have

used the same astrological symbols but in different

ways and with different meanings, although certain

factors will have remained constant, such as the weak

position of Mercury. It is difficult to see how these

myriad of possibilities, which manifest from the same

astrological symbols, can be the cosmos revealing

itself. If one astrological symbol is being

interpreted one might expect the cosmos to be revealed

in one way. That many different interpretations are

possible suggests that there is a two way dialogue.

287

The participatory nature of omens is something

with which Cornelius agrees and in The Moment of

Astrology, he tells us:

Since an omen is only an omen if it is

recognised as such, it is clear that its

significance is dependent on the participation

of those for whom it is present. Its validity

does not depend in any way on some general or

theoretical law governing the production of

omens. Its power comes precisely from its

unique appearance „for us, here, now‟. For

this reason, the significance derived from

omens and embodied in ancient divination may

be called participatory significance (2003:

133).

However, if this is the case, if the power of an omen,

or interpretation, is dependent on the person who sees

it, if it is unique to that person, “here, now”, then

the cosmos cannot be revealing itself without the

participation of that person.

The problem may in part be created by confusion

with the word interpretation. In his discussion of

Oakeshott's work Nardin says that the word

interpretation “implies that the datum to be

interpreted and the interpretations that are made of

it exist in two permanently separated worlds, one an

intellectually constructed world of interpretations,

the other a world of givens that exists apart from all

attempts to interpret it” (2001: 17). To avoid this

problem in the rest of this section we will call the

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process of making an interpretation an

„interpretation‟ and the interpretation made through

that interpretation an „ontological entity‟.

Even if the Responsive Cosmos brings together

astrological chart and context for the astrologer to

interpret, the planetary meanings and the astrologer

do not belong in separate worlds. The meanings of the

planets are determined by the meanings astrologers

give them and it will always be impossible to draw a

line between an „ontological entity‟ one can create

and some supposed „ontological entity‟ created by the

Responsive Cosmos.

We can show this by again referring to the

anecdote provided by the Lama Radha Rinpoche when he

was trying to escape from Tibet into India. As

mentioned, the Lama and his party were walking up a

hill when they were attacked by crows which tried to

drive them down the hill; they ignored them and

continued to walk up the hill. When they reached the

top they saw that Chinese soldiers were in the valley

below, and had to backtrack in order to find an

alternative route.

For the Lama, this was an example of divination;

the crows were trying to drive them down the hill

which he interpreted as an attempt by the cosmos to

guide them into taking a different route. However, he

recognised the behaviour of the crows as a sign from

the cosmos only after he had reached the top of the

mountain and saw the Chinese troops. On the way up

the mountain he did not realise that the behaviour of

the crows was an omen. Thus, although the “cosmos”

spoke, he and his colleagues did not recognise that

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the cosmos was speaking until after the event. Can we

say, then, that the ontological entity, „go back down

the mountain because there are Chinese troops in the

valley below‟, existed before the Lama made that

interpretation? Can we say that it existed quite

separately to the ontological entity he created, as

the context of Lama plus colleagues, crows and Chinese

soldiers were all in place? I think it is clear that

one cannot. Whatever entity might have been in place

before the data is interpreted by the Lama cannot be

the same as the entity after the data has been

interpreted by the Lama because that interpretation

helps to create the entity.

This must be the case because it is possible to

make two different interpretations of a given context

and hence two different ontological entities will come

into being. As Cornelius says: ”Divinatory astrology,

it must be remembered, depends upon an interpretive

act; it is not a thing or fact that is afterwards

interpreted” (2003: 278). This is necessarily the

case because the process of recognition, the creation

of an ontological entity, what we refer to as an omen,

requires an interpretation. As Oakeshott says, “for

there is never in experience an it, an original

distinguishable from the interpretation,” (1933: 31-

2), and later about Scripture, “it is nothing apart

from interpretation” (1991: 269). But the “cosmos”

speaking would, presumably, have to be a separate „it‟

distinguishable from the interpretation.

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Patterns

A related claim which is made by Hyde is that there is

an inherent “moral-pattern principle” in the cosmos

and that astrological symbols, through the realisation

of the symbol, link into this. In Hyde's work, “Pigs,

Fishes – Inner truth in divination”, she mentions

Ch‟eng I, who wrote extensively on the I Ching and did

seem to believe that humans are connected with heaven

through a universal morality: “… the working pattern

of heaven and earth, by virtue of which each thing

attaining its proper moral function” (Smith, Bol,

Adler and Wyatt 1990: 143). For Ch‟eng I, one becomes

part of heaven and earth by acting in “the way of

proper action”, as “everything in the world is

interconnected because a single pattern runs through

it all” (ibid).

However, it is one thing to make this claim and

quite another to provide convincing reasons that there

is anything in it. Even if one believes that

realising the symbol is the cosmos revealing itself,

it does not follow that the cosmos is revealing itself

to have an inherent pattern or an underlying

principle. Indeed, there are good reasons for

doubting that such pattern exists. Life is too

diverse to fit easily any one pattern, or even a

multitude of patterns, so that a thinker like Ch‟eng I

is forced to argue that the pattern may include all

kinds of distinctions but there is only one pattern,

which is in constant flux. He then goes on to tell us

that within the pattern there are precise roles that

prescribe definite behaviour, which are set by neither

291

men nor sages, and that if everyone found their role,

utter harmony would result (ibid: 145). His

explanation for this unity of differences ultimately

refers to what he regards as “natural self-evident

facts about the world” (ibid: 146). Apparently, what

is self-evident about the world is that “human nature

has nothing [in it] that is not good” (ibid: 150).

None of this can be anything more than a series

of questionable assumptions. Indeed, as the editors

of this work on the I Ching tell us, “the meaning of

the I has always changed as the needs and applications

of its users changed.” Using the I text did not

produce a simple answer from a transcendent source but

was subject to social conditions – current moral and

religious practices, social expectations, ministerial

rights to criticise, and the ruler‟s intimidations of

his diviners (ibid: 12).

However, for our purposes, what matters is

whether, in the light of astrological practice, there

is any reason to assume there is a moral-pattern

principle. It seems clear that there is no good

reason to make this assumption. If astrology

conformed to an inherent pattern principle then one

might expect this to be shown by the movement of

planets being mirrored by events on earth. This is

what many astrologers believe and is what Tarnas

argues in his book Cosmos and Psyche, but we have

argued strongly against this and have developed an

alternative theoretical framework for divinatory

astrology, which relies on Cornelius‟ own premise that

the “coming together of objective event and objective

heavens is not a necessary condition for the

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astrological effect to come to pass” and “the coming

together of objective event and objective heavens is

not a sufficient condition for the astrological effect

to come to pass” (Cornelius 2003: 83). However, if

one accepts this, it is difficult to see what sort of

inherent pattern there could be to which astrology

conforms.

Indeed, at the talks provided by the Company of

Astrologers it is common practice to take a chart and

to reinterpret that chart within the context of

whatever matter is currently being discussed. If it

is possible to do this it seems most unlikely that

that there can be one overall large pattern and much

more likely that there are many different small

patterns relating to specific matters (that is if

there are any patterns at all). What actually

connects a series of different interpretations of the

same horoscope is not one large pattern but the

Responsive Cosmos which allows the same horoscope to

be used to consider a variety of different contexts.

It is the same with the idea of one principle.

The possible contexts are so varied, so diverse, that

it seems most unlikely that there is one non-trivial

principle which can be applied in every circumstance.

The idea that it might be is a reflection in the

belief in an ultimate truth, or possibly a neo-

Platonic One, or some other similar principle. We

mentioned in the introduction that our own line of

thinking is in the opposite tradition: the tradition

which thinks that the theory of ultimate principles

contradicts the way the world appears to work.

293

Berlin, who is also part of this tradition, put it

well when he says:

The notion that there must exist final

objective answers to normative questions,

truths that can be demonstrated or directly

intuited, that it is in principle possible to

discover a harmonious pattern in which all

values are reconciled, and that it is towards

this unique goal that we must make; that we

can uncover some single central principle that

shapes this vision, a principle which, once

found, will govern our lives – this ancient

and almost universal belief, on which so much

traditional thought and action and

philosophical doctrine rests, seems to me

invalid… (1969: lv-lvi).

One would, I think, if one was using the evidence

of astrology, be forced to agree with Berlin. The

circumstances surrounding astrological enquiries are

contingent, so the principle would have to be able to

adapt to these contingencies. Those making the

enquiry are subject to these contingencies so it is

difficult to see how the interpretation that they

make, the passion of their own soul that conforms to

the “realisation”, is not also dependent on those

contingencies.

294

Using symbols as steps for spiritual evolution

For Cornelius there are different levels of

understanding of an astrological symbol and they can

become a means of spiritual evolvement. To show how

this might work he borrows the "Fourfold

Interpretation of the Symbol" from Christian

hermeneutics and applies that method to astrology

(2003: 202-302). With this hermeneutic there are four

levels - the literal, the allegorical, the

tropological and the anagoge - and Cornelius argues

that the astrological symbol can be treated in this

way so that one can move from a literal level, through

to an allegorical level, through to the moral level,

and finally reaching a level close to prophecy with

the anagogic level. However, there is a fundamental

problem in applying this methodology to astrology.

Following Cornelius we have already characterised

the astrological judgment or interpretation as the

process of realising the symbol. Equally, following

Cornelius, we have labelled any approach to astrology

which chooses meaning by some pre-determined method,

usually following a rule book, as speculative

astrology. This realising of a symbol is what an

astrological interpretation consists of. However, it

is a process which necessarily bypasses the first two

levels of this hermeneutic. Cornelius says that the

literal level consists of a description of whether the

planets are in the sky – “Mars in Libra in the 10th

house” - while the second level is the allegorical or

metaphorical level. However, these levels constitute

the language of astrology which is assumed before one

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makes an astrological interpretation. In other words

if one is to make an astrological interpretation it

must be done at the third level. If one stays at the

first two levels one has not made an astrological

interpretation at all.

Indeed, as far as astrology is concerned there

seems no reason to assume that there is anything other

than an interpretation. If an interpretation consists

of weighing up different meanings for an astrological

symbol and determining which meaning is appropriate

for the context, then the meaning will be determined

in part by the context and a realised interpretation

will be appropriate to that context. If, therefore,

one is discussing a mundane context the meaning chosen

for the astrological symbol will be a mundane meaning,

whereas, if one is discussing a spiritual context, the

meaning chosen for the astrological symbol will be

spiritual. It is by no means clear in what sense the

interpretation of the spiritual context is at a

different level to the interpretation of the mundane

context because the process of interpretation is

exactly the same. The interpretations are made in the

same way so, if we say that one interpretation is of a

higher order than the other, we are importing our own

idea of levels and applying that to the context, which

is the only factor that has changed.

We can illustrate this by considering the example

chart Cornelius provides in The Moment of Astrology.

Cornelius analyses Lilly's horary question “If

Presbytery Shall Stand?” (2003: 311-316), in which he

shows that there are three different themes to Lilly‟s

use of the symbol Saturn: Presbytery and its failings;

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Cromwell who afflicts Presbytery; and astrology

challenged by Presbytery.

Lilly‟s original question was specifically

concerned with whether Presbytery will endure and for

Cornelius each interpretation of the astrological

symbol of Saturn made by Lilly is at a different level

while at the end of his judgment Lilly makes, what

Cornelius calls, a prophetic judgment to do with the

death of the king. Of the various circumstances that

make such a judgment possible, one cannot, according

to Cornelius, ignore those elements which “bear on the

unique gift, like the touch of grace, vouched to the

astrologer in that moment” (ibid: 317). This, then,

the fourth level, would be when the anagogic is

reached, when we touch on the “mystical nature of the

symbol”. For Cornelius, it is at this moment that

“astrology becomes the agent of revelation” and he

says, “It is appropriate to term work of this class as

„prophecy‟, for there is here something that in its

effects and implication goes entirely beyond our usual

haphazard attempts at astrological prediction” (2003:

315-316).

In this construct we are taking the symbols to

higher and higher levels and through this process we

are becoming closer and closer to the divine, and at

some point en route these symbols take on an ethical

nature which partakes of this higher-moral principle.

This suggests that there is a natural progression,

from mundane interpretation of the symbol, to a more

rarefied interpretation. However, there is a

perfectly good astrological reason for making a series

of interpretations which may seem like the steps of a

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ladder leading steadily to higher levels. Given that

we want to fix the symbol in the context of the matter

being looked at (as that is how we go about making an

interpretation) we are more likely to fix the symbol

in the mundane matters that we know about, before

moving on to the spiritual where it will usually be

harder to ground the symbol in the context. If we are

doing this then there is no essential difference

between the first interpretation of Saturn - the

failings of the Presbytery - and the last. Cornelius

might assume that in the last interpretation we touch

the "mystical nature of symbol" but the symbol has

been treated in exactly the same way in all three

interpretations. One might claim that the last

interpretation is "touched by grace" but since one is

conversing with "divine beings" or the Responsive

Cosmos all the interpretations must be touched by

grace.

The fact remains that all astrological

interpretations, if they attempt to realise the

symbol, follow the same process and we cannot assume

that the "divine beings" or Responsive Cosmos is more

interested in one interpretation than another. In all

cases one is trying to bed the meaning of the

astrological symbol into the context of the matter

being looked at. If the context is spiritual the

astrological symbol will be given a spiritual

interpretation and if the context is mundane a mundane

interpretation.

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Unwarranted arguments

Our objection to the promulgation of a transcendent

order is two-fold. First, it cannot be derived from

the experience of astrologers and must be assumed; and

second, the assumption is unnecessary and contradicts

extant astrological practice which relies on context

and the realisation of the astrological symbol by the

astrologer to help determine the meaning.

One danger of promulgating a fixed transcendent

order is that it can be used to support arguments

which are not warranted. In her paper, “The Cock and

the Chameleon” (2007), written in response to Curry‟s

paper, “Divination, Enchantment and Platonism” (2007),

Hyde takes the two examples of divination that Curry

provides and argues that, contrary to Curry‟s view,

these examples show the superiority of the Platonic

viewpoint to the pluralist viewpoint. Curry‟s first

example, “The Cock and The Chameleon”, was taken from

Karen Blixen‟s105

book Out of Africa. Blixen, having

experienced problems in her personal life cannot

accept that there is not a deeper underlying purpose

to her predicament, and looks to the cosmos, the

heavens, or a higher order, to provide a sign. The

sign comes, as far as she is concerned, when a large

cock on her farmyard bites out the tongue of a

chameleon in front of her. She sees this as a sign

that her current situation is such that there is

nothing that can be done to help her. Shortly

afterwards she leaves Africa, never to return.

105

Isak Dinesen‟s pseudonym.

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Blixen sets a context and the omen of the cock

biting out the tongue of the Chameleon reveals to her

something about that context. The discussion between

Curry and Hyde sets a new context and the omen is then

used to reveal something about that context. Hyde

positions the Platonic viewpoint with the cock and the

pluralist viewpoint with the chameleon, and argues

that the biting out of the tongue illustrates the

importance and superiority of the Platonic viewpoint.

She argues as follows: one can only divine if one

believes there is something which exists which can

provide a sign. “Divination both requires and sustains

the sense of coherence and unity this implies, since

the diviner cannot divine without a prior belief that

there is some source of truth to be called upon in the

situation. This source of truth overcomes all

relativistic interpretation…”; thus, “divination

emerges within contingency” and “it fulfils its

purpose when a truth of interpretation is realised…”;

“By this realisation, all other possible truths fall

away so that a truth is secured, and it becomes the

truth”; divination in itself is not primary but serves

“man‟s relation with a greater and sacred order”

(2007: 51).

However, this argument fails. The first problem

is that if “divination emerges within contingency”

then there seems no reason to assume that it does so

with reference to one source of truth, because if the

circumstances are contingent there is always the

possibility that one set of contingent circumstances

will contradict another set of contingent

circumstances. The second problem is that, although

300

it is the case that the diviner must assume that there

is some entity which will provide a sign, and that

some sort of truth is provided through the divinatory

process, it does not follow that this is an order of

truth which is superior to all relativistic

interpretation.

These are serious problems for the argument but

are secondary to the main issue. The argument fails

because the move from “divination … requires … [a]

sense of coherence and unity … [or a] source of truth”

to “this source of truth overcomes all relativistic

interpretation” is one that can only be made if one

assumes that the source of truth is independent of the

enquirer so that it is not relativistic (or else there

would be no reason to think it is superior to a

relativistic interpretation.) However, if the source

of truth involves the realisation of the symbol by the

enquirer then that realisation cannot be independent

of the enquirer and must be relative to the enquirer.

It is the same problem we have already come

across. The only way to access a source of truth for

divinatory purposes is through interpretation but if

one interprets it, the source of truth is no longer

independent but relative to the interpreter. In Jung

and Astrology, Hyde tells us, “Astrological practice

and experience do not simply involve the astrologer in

an act of objective interpretation, but they echo his

or her own psyche,” (1992: 170). This is necessarily

relativistic.

The problem of assuming there is one superior

truth is that there will be many different

interpretations of that truth and it is possible that

301

those who consider they are better astrologers or have

more evolved souls may believe that they have

privileged access to that truth.

302

Chapter Thirteen: Neo-Platonic Astrology

Introduction

Cornelius is keen to place divinatory astrology within

the neo-Platonic tradition for at least two reasons:

first, because the later neo-Platonic thinkers taught

that divinatory practices can be used for spiritual

development, and second, because they are a medieval

counterpoint to Aristotle. This is important for

Cornelius because he specifically contrasts his

approach with that of Ptolemy (which Cornelius

believes most astrologers have followed) and Ptolemy

places his astrological model within the Aristotelian

tradition. That Cornelius wants to place his

divinatory astrology within the neo-Platonic tradition

is on first appearance odd, because Addey and Harvey

(both of whom were critical of divinatory astrology)

and Tarnas (who argues that the archetypal paradigm

provides a better understanding of astrology than the

divinatory paradigm) have also been described as neo-

Platonic astrologers. Indeed, unlike Cornelius, they

usually are described as neo-Platonic astrologers:

Harvey (1994) specifically uses that term to describe

his astrology, while, according to Harding:

Richard Tarnas is one who presents the neo-

Platonic view that „at the heart of the

astrological perspective is the claim that the

planets are fundamentally associated with

specific archetypes, and that the planetary

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patterns in the heavens are reflected in

corresponding archetypal patterns in human

affairs‟ (1992: 71).

There are, it seems, two schools of neo-Platonic

astrology. Indeed, the three main models of astrology

which have been put forward by astrologers to account

for the astrological process - correspondence,

archetypal and neo-Platonic divinatory - are neo-

Platonic in origin. In all likelihood the majority of

astrologers will accept one of these models.

Consequently, it is worth considering how these

different models have been developed from the same

source because this might provide some understanding

of why these models are so attractive to astrologers.

This is worth knowing given that, in our view, the

practice of astrology does not allow one to assume

that there is any sort of transcendent order of a neo-

Platonic variety.

The creation myth of Plato

The thinking behind both these astrological models

goes back to the creation myth in the Timaeus. In

essence, this myth is as follows:

God wanted to create a world in his image, as

good as possible, and to move from disorder to

order. He thought only soul could possess

intelligence so he put intelligence in soul

and soul in body. Wanting the world to be

“complete in every way, he made it a single

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visible living thing, which contains within

itself all the living things whose nature it

is to share its kind”.

The body of the world is three

dimensional, consists of the four elements –

earth, air, fire, and water – bound together

in proportion by “solid” numbers.106 It is

spherical because it is the most complete and

the most like itself and likeness is more

excellent than unlikeness, and it is set

turning continuously in the same place,

spinning around upon itself.

The soul was placed at the centre,

extending throughout the whole body, and was

the mistress of the body. It was made up of a

proportionate mixture of the same, the

Different and the Being.107

This soul material

was then made into one strip with

proportionate intervals, then this strip was

cut into two, placed crosswise and wrapped

round the sphere creating two rings, one the

circle of the Same for the fixed stars and the

other the circle of the Different for the

planets.

As the living world cannot be eternal, he

made a “moving image of eternity” which is

time, defined by the movement of the Sun, the

Moon and the five planets, which were placed

106

Solid being cubes – e.g. 2x2x2 or 8 107

The exact method seems to be as follows: Being that is indivisible mixed with Being that is

divisible to derive another Being; Same that is indivisible mixed with Same that is divisible to

derive another Same; Different that is indivisible mixed with Different that is divisible to derive

another Different. The three derived qualities are then mixed.

305

in orbits round the circle of the Different

(Plato (1965) 29e to 39e).

From this model, the neo-Platonic thinkers created a

hierarchical system with the One, or perfect unity,

situated at the apex, with various spheres underneath:

the realm of Platonic Ideas, followed by the realm of

the fixed stars, followed by the seven planetary

spheres, from Saturn to the Moon, until the sphere of

the earth. Each sphere is a mirror image of the

sphere above, although with increasing levels of

materiality and differentiation as one reaches closer

to Earth, so when one reaches the sphere of the earth

the human soul still contains a trace of divinity.

But the process goes both ways so that:

From the sphere of the earth, the elements

earth, water, air and fire lead up into the

heavenly spheres of Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun,

Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, which in turn lead

to the eighth sphere of the fixed stars, and

above that to the Divine Mind itself, which is

the active intelligence of the One. The human

being then finds himself an amphibian, born of

the earth yet with a „divine imprint‟ in his

soul which is threefold: instinctive in so

far as it inclines to earthly existence,

imaginative and intellectual in so far as it

corresponds to the cosmos and divinity (Voss

2006: 11).

As Angela Voss points out:

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… it is tempting to regard the Platonic model

as a static, hierarchical structure, favouring

the purity of intellect over the sensuality of

the earth. However, the later Platonists

emphasise a dynamic „spiritual circuit‟ that

convoys divine energy down through the spheres

to earth and back again, sowing „seeds‟ or

baits of divine power in natural things

(ibid).

Thus, it is possible to see how both neo-Platonic

models were developed. The Addey, Harvey and Tarnas

„numbers-cycles-archetypal‟ model of astrology could

be derived from neo-Platonic thought because

archetypes, numbers and cycles are interconnected and

become part of the expression of the One. One can see

why one might believe that the world has been created

in accordance with Platonic principles, in which there

are Platonic Ideas, and in which the movement of the

planets is a mirror image of what is happening on

Earth, and how this belief could lead to the view that

the position of the planets at a given time will

reflect what is occurring on Earth at that particular

time. One might believe that the world is an

indivisible whole, with all parts connected to each

other, either through the law of correspondences or

through archetypes, or Platonic Ideas, which become

principles through which the world is structured.

With sufficient skill, and with an astrology which

was sufficiently refined, it would be possible to read

our fate and destiny through the movement of the

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planets. Thus, according to Gregory Shaw, a neo-

Platonist like Porphyry “assumed that our personal

daimon could be discovered from these calculations and

that, once determined, the soul could perform

sacrifices to free itself from the rulers of fate”

(2007: 2).

In contrast, the Cornelius-Voss neo-Platonic

school follows in the tradition of other neo-Platonic

thinkers such as Plotinus, Proclus, Iamblicus and,

later, Ficino, who emphasise the “spiritual circuit”

and the individual‟s receptiveness to their daimon, or

to the divine.

Plotinus’ contribution

In The Enneads, Plotinus argues against the belief

that the planets “produce…such conditions as poverty,

wealth, health, and sickness” (1991: 2.3.1), arguing

that the planets are signs and not causes. As the

planets move, “pursing the other tasks allotted to

them”, they will also “follow the quality of

signifying, just as the one principle underlying any

living unit enables us to reason from member to

member” (ibid: 2.3.7). What enables us to do this,

what provides “a reasonable basis for the divination,

not only by stars but also by birds and other animals”

is that “all things must be enchained; and the

sympathy and correspondence obtaining in any one

closely knit organism must exist, first, and most

intensely, in the All.” In this way, “each entity

takes its origin from one principle and, therefore,

while executing its own function, works in with every

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other member of that All… And there is nothing

undesigned, nothing of chance, in all the process”

(ibid: 2.3.7).

This, as we have seen, can be a justification for

Elwell‟s model of astrology and for much astrological

thinking. It will also sustain the astrology of

Addey, Tarnas and Harvey and may well sustain the

astrology of a great many practising astrologers who

do believe that a neo-Platonic philosophy along these

lines underpins their practice.

However, Plotinus also argues, following the

Timaeus, that God “bestows the essential of the Soul”

but it is the stars “that infuse the powerful

affections holding from Necessity – our impulse and

our desire, our sense of pleasure and of pain – and

that lower phase of the Soul in which such experiences

originate. By this statement our personality is bound

up with the stars… our temperament will be of the

stars‟ ordering, and so, therefore, the actions which

derive from temperament”. Our task is “to work for

our liberation from this sphere” of necessity, because

“there is another life, emancipated, whose quality is

progression towards the higher realm, towards the good

and divine, towards that Principle which no one

possesses except by deliberate usage but so may

appropriate, becoming, each personally the higher, the

beautiful, the Godlike”(ibid: 2.3.9).

As Voss puts it:

Plotinus could not have stated more clearly

that symbolic perception is the key to

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spiritual ascent, and that the patterns of the

stars facilitate a cosmic or universal

perspective on human concerns, enabling the

diviner access to a trans-temporal mode of

understanding, where past, present and future

are one (2006: 23).

Essentially Plotinus‟ position is taken up by

Iamblichus, Ficino and others, and a contrast is drawn

between the astrology that they might practise, and

the practice of other astrologers. Cornelius places

his astrology in the tradition of Iamblichus and

Ficino. Thus, according to Shaw, for Iamblichus:

… it is not by our knowing, calculating, or

predicting that we ascend to the gods but by

the intensity and quality of our longing. The

true astrology of Iamblichus had to engage

this pre-ordained longing; it was not an

attempt to overcome or to out think fate but

to penetrate to the essence of fate and

recognise the presence of the liberating gods

in their generative binding (2007: 4).

And, according to Voss, Ficino divides astrologers

into:

… those who are bound by their own opinions or

the rules of the textbook and those who read

the stars as divine signs. Both use

traditional techniques, cast horoscopes, and

give interpretations, but the former believe

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that the stars determine human action, while

the latter see them as indicating the path of

freedom and self-knowledge. The former judge

from rational inference, the latter from an

intuitive „gift of the soul‟ (2006: 26).

Here Voss is explaining why it is that Ficino‟s own

practice of astrology is compatible with the

condemnation of the astrologers that he made in “A

Disputation against the judgment of the astrologers”.

Ficino was criticising the type of astrologer who

believed that the planets determined human action, and

who left no place for the individual‟s own sense of

symbol.

For Cornelius and Voss, and others who agree with

them, with astrology one can take the symbol to higher

and higher levels and, as mentioned, they have

borrowed the Christian fourfold hermeneutic of Bible

interpretation to show how this might be done (Voss

2006 and Cornelius 2003: 277-330). In contrast, the

Addey, Harvey and Tarnas approach seems more concerned

with how neo-Platonic natural laws, through

archetypes, number and cycles, pervade the Earth.

Distinctions between the two schools

It would be tempting, and certainly convenient, to

move the distinction made by Ficino forward and put

Cornelius‟ divinatory astrology on one side, and the

astrology of Addey, Harvey, and Tarnas (and the many

other astrologers, almost certainly the majority, who

find the astrology of Addey, Harvey and Tarnas more

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congenial than that of Cornelius) on the other side.

However, to do so would be quite wrong.

It would be wrong because one cannot argue that

Addey and Harvey did not, and Tarnas does not, have a

symbolic attitude and a willingness to let the soul

help interpret an astrological symbol. We can see

this if we consider Harvey‟s review of Cornelius‟ The

Moment of Astrology (1994). Harvey accepts that one

could make a contrast, as Cornelius does, between an

astrology which is context-specific and an astrology

which is “objective” and “deterministic”, but Harvey

clearly does not see his own form of what he calls

neo-Platonic astrology as part of the “objective” or

“deterministic” category. Indeed, he agrees with

Cornelius that “such a mechanistic, „objectified‟

universe is… alien and contrary to the astrological

experience in which subject and object, astrologer and

client, so readily merge and reflect each other”.

Thus, when referring to the example given in The

Moment of Astrology, (2003: 209-214), in which a group

of astrological students on a weekend course, finding

some drowned sheep on the beach, “were all part of one

unique, unrepeatable, inter-twined, space-time context

and not the product of some originating moment as

normally required by the normal „mechanistic‟

astrological model,” he immediately provides his own

explanation:

Yet a Neo-Platonist would probably argue that

this is the very essence of the paradoxical

and mystical nature of reality: ultimately

cause and effect are non-linear, they are part

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of one another and each moment of time

reflects all of its possible expressions

(1994: 397).

Later, Harvey says that Cornelius seems to ignore

planetary cycles:

That there is „a time to sow and a time to

reap…and a time for everything under the sun‟

was assumed in the ancient world from earliest

times and is of course the basis of a large

proportion of successful mundane forecasts.

For a Neo-Platonist who sees the Cosmos as a

living body of Ideas such a perspective is not

mechanistic or lacking in mystery, nor does it

negate the free will which Cornelius, quite

rightly, is so intent to emphasise (1994:

398).

Thus, Harvey places himself in the neo-Platonic

tradition but does not accept that he is one of the

astrologers that someone like Ficino would be

attacking. The sort of astrologer Ficino might be

attacking is one who accepts that astrology conforms

to Aristotelian science or, since the demise of that,

empirical science. However, as has already been

shown, it is not possible to practise such an

astrology: science, whether Aristotelian or modern,

is unable to provide a methodology for choosing

astrological meanings because there is no empirical

evidence to choose one meaning for a symbol over

another. Even those who adhere to the scientific

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approach to astrology use context to choose

astrological meanings and if they do that then, in the

absence of empirical evidence, implicitly they are

assuming that the Responsive Cosmos brings together

chart and context. Without that implicit assumption

they do not have a legitimate reason to use the

context to derive an astrological meaning.

Alternatively, it could be argued that neo-

Ptolemaic astrology, in contrast to the Voss-Cornelius

neo-Platonic school, accepts the paramount importance

of the time of birth; neo-Ptolemaic astrologers follow

Ptolemy, or at least one possible interpretation of

Ptolemy, in agreeing that the moment of birth contains

the seed of the native, his/her life and his/her

character. This distinction can certainly be made and

most astrologers do accept the paramount importance of

the birth chart, including those who follow the Addey,

Harvey and Tarnas school of neo-Platonic astrology.

It is an interesting distinction between the two

schools – and one that is probably dependent on an

erroneous view of the support empirical evidence lends

astrology.

However, those who subscribe to the notion of a

“seed moment” of birth would not accept that they

cannot use astrology as a means for spiritual

evolvement. For example, the White Eagle School of

Astrology, which is part of the White Eagle Lodge, a

non-denominated Christian sect, although not

specifically neo-Platonic, has been imbued with neo-

Platonism through its Christian background and uses

astrology primarily as a means for spiritual

evolvement. No one who follows the tenets of the

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school would have any problem with Voss‟ ”essential

premise of Platonism – and of alchemy – that the human

soul has the innate capacity to develop a way of

knowledge which progresses from a clear separation of

the knower from the thing known to the experience of

the world as a unity, and that is a spiritual quest”

(2006: 7). Something similar will be accepted, even

if the words used would be slightly different.

It is simply wrong to argue that a neo-Platonic

framework, as opposed to a neo-Ptolemaic framework

(understood here as one which adheres to the “seed

moment” of birth philosophy), is the only way

astrology can be used by those on a spiritual quest.

The actual way that astrologers from these two schools

use the astrological symbol will not differ. Harvey

tells us: “We can perhaps best begin to think about

these different circles by reflecting on the fact that

each one of us has an entirely unique relationship

with the One and the All” (1985: 85). This does not

seem to be that different from the Cornelius-Voss

position in which one uses a series of steps to reach

the One.

What will differ is the emphasis that they place

on the use of the astrological symbol. Given that the

Addey, Harvey and Tarnas school believe that neo-

Platonic laws pervade life on Earth they are more

likely to believe that it will be possible to make

successful predictions about events which impact on

society.108 In contrast the Voss and Cornelius school

108

Harvey seemed particularly successful at doing this.

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will emphasise the importance of the individual and

the self development of the individual.

The attraction of the neo-Platonic model

We are writing from within a tradition that does not

accept a neo-Platonic cosmos and finds little

attractive about it. Therefore, we can only suggest

reasons which might explain why astrologers are

attracted to it; why, as Harding tells us, most of the

theories astrologers put forward to account for

astrological practice are neo-Platonic in origin, and

why the three main models of astrology we are

discussing in this thesis are inspired by neo-Platonic

thought.

One can understand why the idea that there might

be natural laws which pervade the universe,

underpinning astrological practice, so that with a

little fine tuning and some extra practice astrologers

can make predictions about everything under the Sun

(literally) is tremendously appealing to astrologers.

If this was accepted astrologers would wield

considerable influence and their views would be sought

on all matters. The practice of astrology would have

considerable more prestige than it currently has. In

addition, the simplicity and completeness of the neo-

Platonic model is immensely seductive and it is one

with which many are familiar because of the influence

of neo-Platonic thought on Christianity. Further, for

those who follow the Cornelius-Voss school and may not

think that natural laws pervade the universe the

possibility of spiritual evolvement through the

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practice of astrology, that it can be used to start a

process of spiritual development towards the One, or

the Godhead, may have tremendous appeal.

The neo-Platonic models of astrology are top down

creations. One starts with a belief about the world –

the cosmos is neo-Platonic, or we are on a spiritual

path – and then, because one is a practising astrology

and experience that it works, determines how astrology

fits in with one‟s belief about the world. Astrology,

being remarkable flexible, usually will fit in. These

overall beliefs about the world can be tremendously

seductive.

Problems with these models

As mentioned, we are writing within a different

tradition and agree with poet and classical scholar

Louise MacNeice: “And no one Tuesday is another and

you destroy it/If you subtract the difference and

relate/It merely to the Form of Tuesday…” (MacNeice

1998: 40). There are plenty of philosophical problems

with the neo-Platonic position but our interest is not

specifically whether there are reasons to assume a

neo-Platonic cosmos. Our interest is in determining

whether the practice of astrology allows us to assume

this neo-Platonic cosmos and, if it is an extra

assumption, whether it is a reasonable one to make.

In both cases the answer is no. At the risk of

repetition, and as a conclusion to this chapter, we

recapitulate the arguments below.

Astrological practice does not allow one to

make the assumption of a neo-Platonic cosmos. First,

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although it is true that astrologers use archetypes,

correspondences and cycles in their practice, without

empirical support there is no reason to assume that

neo-Platonic natural laws underpin the cycles.

Second, since astrologers give astrological symbols

meanings, one cannot assume that there is a set of

astrological meanings quite separate to the practice

of astrology which astrologers can tap into. Third,

an interpretation just is; one interprets the

astrological symbol in the way appropriate to the

context. There is nothing about the astrological

interpretation which allows one to assume that one is

moving up a ladder of spiritual evolvement towards the

Godhead. One chooses the meaning of the astrological

symbol by grounding that symbol in the context so a

mundane context will result in a mundane meaning and a

spiritual context a spiritual meaning. It is simply

an assumption about the nature of spirituality if one

says one interpretation is more evolved than the

other. The Responsive Cosmos is involved in both.

In all three cases the astrologer is assuming

that something exists outside astrology which cannot

be assumed from astrological practice and so that

something becomes an extra assumption. The mistake is

one that Harding points to in his discussion of

astrology as a language game. There is nothing in the

process of making an astrological interpretation which

provides an opportunity to step outside the language

game of astrological interpretations and observe the

process objectively from another position (see Harding

2004: 177). There is nothing involved in the process

of making an astrological interpretation other than

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fitting the words (the astrological symbols) to the

context. The Responsive Cosmos is involved but to

assume that it is reflecting another order of fixed

ideas or principles which is separate to the meanings

created by astrologers is an extra assumption; we do

not require a fixed set of principles to give our

words (astrological symbols) meaning, because we

derive their meaning from the context in which we

place them.

There is no reason to make this extra assumption.

It is not necessary to make it if one wants to account

for astrological practice, while astrological symbols

are multivalent and techniques so varied that it is

most unlikely that they derive from a fixed order.

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Chapter Fourteen: Problems solved Part One

Introduction

Having outlined some of the problems with the existing

models of astrology it is now necessary to show how

the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos solves many

theoretical problems concerning astrological practice.

It solves at least four problems for those astrologers

who are interested in providing a coherent account of

astrological practice. First, it solves the problem

caused by a lack of empirical evidence; second, it

solves the problem of apparently contradictory

astrological techniques; third, it solves the problem

of the strange phenomenon which astrologers often

experience of, 'it works for me' but not always for

others; and fourth, it solves the problem of 'wrong'

charts in which a chart for the „wrong‟ time produces

relevant and pertinent astrology.

However, the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos

solves these problems by moving astrology from the

realm of science and placing it within the field of

divination through the involvement of the Responsive

Cosmos. This creates at least three further issues

which are a concern for some astrologers and critics.

The first refers to the previous problem of „wrong‟

charts: if astrology is divination then a random

chart would seem to work just as well as a timed chart

which, these critics argue, makes a mockery of

astrological history and tradition. The second is

that if astrology is divination there seems little

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point in learning the fairly complex rules of

astrology and one might as well read tea leaves

instead. The third is that often astrology seems to

be work when we do not seem to be „divining‟ at all.

The initial four issues and these three corollary

problems will be dealt with in this chapter.

Further to these issues, the relative nature of

the Responsive Cosmos is a problem for some

astrologers and critics for two reasons. First, if

the Responsive Cosmos is working through a dialogue

with the astrologer, without reference to anything

outside the process, then it is not clear what

criteria can be used for criticising an astrological

interpretation. If any interpretation is possible

then the discipline has a serious problem. Serious,

because if there is no way to distinguish between good

and bad, well done or badly done, and any

interpretation will do then it is not a discipline

anyone will take seriously. The second reason

concerns the information obtained from the Responsive

Cosmos. If the information obtained is relative to

the astrologer then it is not clear how it can add to

human knowledge, or why it might be of value. The

first of these problems will be discussed in chapter

fifteen and the second in chapter sixteen.

The final issue is a concern of astrologers. It

comes out of everything we have said about astrology.

If it has been removed from the realm of science so

that it cannot provide objective information, if it is

not about getting things right and is partly relative

to the astrologer, then it is not clear why anyone

should be interested in astrology at all, or why

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anyone should consult an astrologer. This issue will

be discussed in chapter seventeen, the final chapter

of the thesis.

(i) Lack of empirical evidence

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos solves the

problem of a lack of empirical evidence for

astrological rules and techniques in three ways.

First, it is defined as an agency which does not

conform to natural laws. Therefore, there is no

reason why the Responsive Cosmos should be subject to

empirical tests. Second, since the astrological

enquiry obtains guidance from the Responsive Cosmos it

is not an empirical enquiry. It is, as has been

mentioned, a moral enquiry. If it is a moral enquiry

then what matters is not whether it is subject to the

verification test of science but on the quality of

information it provides. Thus, the issue of whether

or not it does provide information worth having has

nothing to do with empirical tests. What it has to do

with will be discussed in chapter sixteen. And third,

with the absence of empirical evidence which might

provide a reason for astrologers to use those rules,

the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos provides a

reason to use those rules because part of that

hypothesis is that the Responsive Cosmos will bring

together an astrological configuration – which

includes astrological rules and laws – which is

relevant to the matter being considered.

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(ii) Contradictory techniques

There are techniques used in astrology which appear to

be contradictory. The example already mentioned above

is the sidereal zodiac used by most Indian astrologers

and the tropical zodiac generally preferred by Western

astrologers. These two zodiacs start at different

places so that the Sun in Scorpio in the tropical

zodiac can be the Sun in Libra in the sidereal zodiac.

However, under both systems Scorpio is a fixed sign of

intensity while Libra is a sign suggestive of harmony.

Thus, both the two different zodiacs will produce two

different readings for the same person but astrologers

using both systems claim to produce correct results

which work.

With the Responsive Cosmos using different

techniques is not a problem because the Responsive

Cosmos will respond to the individual techniques of

the astrologer. There are some caveats to this claim

which will be discussed in chapter fifteen but

essentially, as Cornelius has said, the technique one

chooses is a matter of practice and as long as one's

practice is sound the Responsive Cosmos will respond

to that practice. This, of course, is implied by our

understanding of the Responsive Cosmos: if the

Responsive Cosmos only responded to certain techniques

then we would expect those techniques to be picked out

by empirical evidence. However, empirical evidence

has not been able to show that one technique does

produce better results than another and neither

Western nor Indian astrologers have been able to show

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that their preferred zodiac has a greater chance of

success than the other zodiac.

(iii) It works for me

The second problem leads straight to the third

problem. If the Responsive Cosmos responds to the

technique of the astrologer then the astrologer will

find that when they use a preferred technique that it

will produce relevant guidance. However, another

astrologer using a different technique and applying

that technique to the same context might find that the

alternative technique „works for them‟. Astrologers

find this strange and a difficult matter to accept

because common sense would suggest that only one

technique should work. However, if the Responsive

Cosmos responds to the individual technique of the

astrologer then there is no reason why two different

techniques should not produce relevant guidance.

This is what we would expect and is actually what

happens. An example can be found with the technique

known as “mutual reception”. Two well known and

respected astrologers Olivia Barclay (1919-2001) and

Derek Appleby (1937-1995), used this technique in

different ways, but both claimed that their preferred

method was correct and both referred to the results

obtained from using their preferred method to support

that claim. With mutual receptions, if planet A is in

the sign ruled by planet B and planet B is in the sign

ruled by planet A, then they are said to be in mutual

reception, and they can 'swap' places in the

horoscope. Appleby argued that the planets kept their

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degree and only swapped signs, Barclay, following her

interpretation of Lilly, that they swapped degrees as

well as signs. These different interpretations of the

same technique result in the swapped planets being

placed at different degrees in the horoscope. Both

Barclay and Appleby claimed that their method was the

right one with reference to horary questions which

they had answered which they could only have got right

by using their preferred method.109

This is an example of the Responsive Cosmos

responding to the individual technique of the

astrologer. There is, I think, no other possible

explanation other than saying that one technique is

wrong and one technique is right. However, from an

objective standpoint one cannot say one technique is

better than the other because both astrologers could

show examples of horary charts in which the technique,

and not the technique of the other, produced pertinent

results. This may appear to be contradictory but it

is not or, at least, not in a way that matters.

(iv) Wrong Charts

The issue of 'wrong charts' is one that has been

highlighted by the critics of astrology as a problem

(see Mather 2008: 58) but is also an issue which

concerns many astrologers. The problem is that on

occasion an astrologer will use a chart which produces

pertinent information which is afterwards found to be

109

Interestingly, Schmidt, the most recent translator of Ptolemy, argues that the whole technique

is based on a mistranslation by Robbins in his 1940 translation of Ptolemy, and that there is no

reason to suppose the Hellenistic astrologers ever used this technique.

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a 'wrong' chart. The usual example is a birth chart

for which the wrong time has been used.

The solution to this problem has been provided by

Cornelius and his re-definition of the radical chart.

For Cornelius, as we have seen, there is no necessary

connection between the actual position of the planets

at a particular time and the matter being considered

on Earth. What matters is whether the astrological

symbolism is radical - whether it describes the

context. In terms of the Responsive Cosmos it means

that the Responsive Cosmos will, through whatever

method, bring together an astrological chart

appropriate for the matter being considered. The

actual time of the chart is a secondary matter.

This goes against the tradition of astrological

practice and is a conclusion which most astrologers

have considerable difficulty accepting. The majority

of astrologers when analysing a chart continually

match up what they think are accurate birth times with

lives and naturally think that something objective is

going on (see Bird 2006: 140). In contrast, as far as

divinatory astrology is concerned what matters is

whether the chart is radical – whether the

astrological symbols describe the matter being

considered.

If one insists that an accurate time is a

necessary component of the astrological process one

is, even if one does not realise it, making an extra

assumption. That extra assumption is that an accurate

time will provide astrological symbolism which

describes the matter being considered and that

inaccurate times will not. This extra assumption is

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unnecessary. There is no reason to make it unless one

can show that there is empirical evidence to support

the claim. It is a claim that is contradicted by

astrologers who have found that 'wrong' charts can

produce guidance that is pertinent to the matter being

considered. No one denies that these 'wrong' charts

exist and there are plenty of examples in astrological

literature.

Indeed, when the time of birth is not known

astrologers will often try and determine the 'correct'

birth time by working out which time produces the

astrological symbolism which best describes the known

events of a life. It is then assumed that this time

is the birth time. This process is called

rectification and is completely circular because it

assumes in advance that the birth time will produce

more apt astrological symbolism than other times.

What the astrologer is actually doing is not finding

an accurate time of birth (since there is no reason

for the assumption that the accurate time of birth is

the only time which will produce apt astrological

symbolism) but finding an appropriate chart to make an

astrological judgment about that life.

It is strange that astrologers put such emphasis

on an accurate time of birth when is questionable how

accurate any time of birth actually is, particularly

in England where birth times are not recorded.

Astrologers have techniques like primary directions110

which will result in very different prognoses even for

110

This is the third order of Bird‟s three orders of correspondence (2006: 64-66) mentioned

above, when planets, or angles, are moved forwards from the moment of birth in order to time

events in a life.

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a change of one minute in the birth time, while a few

seconds can change an Ascendant from one sign to

another. However, even when the birth time is

recorded no one really knows how accurate the clock

was or whether the nurse rounded the time up or down

by a minute or so.

An accurate time adds nothing to the process of

choosing an apt symbol, other than adding an

unnecessary extra assumption which few will take

seriously. It is better to accept the hypothesis of

the Responsive Cosmos so that this reliance on

accurate times is unnecessary.

Some astrologers counter this by arguing that

they just “know” when a birth time is correct or not,

and that they have never seen an incorrect birth time

which provides apt information for a life, or, at

least, information as apt as that provided by the

correct birth time. This, however, is no argument at

all. If the astrologer can differentiate between

correct and incorrect birth times then the method

he/she uses to arrive at that differentiation is the

criterion he/she is using to choose an appropriate

chart. The secondary claim, that they have never come

across incorrect birth times which show apt

information, is just that – a claim which might or

might not be true for other astrologers.

(v) Shuffling the deck

This solution, however, sits uneasily with many

astrologers. If birth times do not matter, if the

Responsive Cosmos brings together chart and context,

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then it implies that astrologers can choose any chart

they like; that they can “shuffle the deck” as one

might do with a Tarot pack or choose a “random chart”

(see Hamblin 2006). However, this is a version of

what Smith calls the “anything goes” fallacy (1997: 61

and 78) because it assumes that if one does not use a

particular criterion – in this case birth times - it

follows that one uses no criterion. This, of course,

is nonsense: the criterion being used is that the

symbolism of the chart should be apt for whatever is

being looked at. The divinatory astrologer, no less

than any other astrologer, will have a methodology for

finding that symbolism. Usually this will be to

follow the practice of other astrologers and take the

birth time because that is the tradition and it has

been successful in the past. It is not, however, the

overriding criterion for choosing the chart; what

determines whether the chart can be used to make an

astrological judgment, whether it can do its job and

provide relevant information on a life, or an event,

or on something else, is not whether the time is

accurate but whether the astrological symbols aptly

describe the matter being looked at – that the chart

is radical. If they do not then the chart cannot be

fruitfully judged.

One corollary of this position is that using apt

symbolism might result in more than one useful

horoscope for a particular life or matter (see

Cornelius 2003: 232-248). This might seem an odd

conclusion but there is nothing contradictory about

using two charts to consider different matters about a

life or a context as long as the criteria for choosing

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those charts is the same. However, there is something

contradictory in using both the criterion of accurate

birth times and the criterion of apt astrological

symbolism for choosing appropriate charts because the

two criteria are different. The criterion for

establishing the correct time of birth consists of

checking the accuracy of the clock in the delivery

room and asking the midwife if she habitually rounds

the birth times up or down; while the criterion for

apt astrological symbols is whether the meaning of the

symbol provided by the rules of astrology describes

the context. They are completely different and there

is no empirical reason to assume that there is any

connection between them.

(vi) The “tea-leaf” argument

Another problem astrologers often have when astrology

is moved away from the realm of science into the field

of divination is that the field of divination fails to

distinguish between a complex rules-based practice and

“reading tea-leaves”111 (see McDonough‟s comments in

Phillipson 2003), and if it is “just” a matter of

asking the gods, there is no need for “rigorous study”

of past masters (Gillett 2006).

These complaints are unwarranted. The methodology

of astrology allows one to make precise

prognostications in contrast to tea-leaf reading in

111

Anecdotally, astrologers are often dismissive about tea-leaf reading and the Tarot (although

many astrologers can read Tarot cards) but rarely about the I Ching. The I Ching was studied by

various Chinese sages and has an intellectual credibility which tea-leaf reading and Tarot cards

lack. That astrologers do think their subject is superior to Tarot, largely because it is more

difficult to learn, is clear from Bird (2006: 87-88) but it does not follow from this that tea-leaf

reading, Tarot, the I Ching, and astrology are not all forms of divination.

330

which the rules are looser because the tea leaves are

constantly moving, tend to cluster and will sink below

the surface. And it is through an inherited body of

analyses and thus the study of past masters of the

tradition that one will improve one‟s own practice

because one can draw on the work of those astrologers

who have been successful in the past. It would be

fair to see this as an extension of the master-

apprentice relationship which Oakeshott considered an

important way to gain knowledge of any practice.112

Intricate techniques based on the past practice of

skilled astrologers will allow for the greater

possibility of intricate and detailed responses, while

vague and imprecise methodology – arguably that of the

tea-leaf reader - will allow for only vague and

imprecise responses.113

(vii) Non-stop astrology

For many astrologers, one of the problems they have in

accepting that astrology is divinatory is that whereas

astrology appears to work all the time divinatory

astrology, one might think, should only work when one

makes an enquiry. I would like to offer a personal

example to illustrate the problem and to suggest a

solution.

The job that I accepted before graduating from

university was offered in the form of a telegram. I

112

It could be that Oakeshott was influenced by Michael Polyani, whose work on knowledge

will be discussed in chapter sixteen, as this is certainly something Polyani thought (see Mitchell

2006: 143) and Oakeshott specifically mentions the work of Polyani. 113

Even if this is unfair to tea-leaf readers the point holds: a complex-rules based practice has

certain advantages over a simple non-rules based practice.

331

kept the telegram as it was a record of an important

moment in my life. Many years later, after I had

become interested in astrology, I rediscovered it and

saw that it had a time on it.114

I calculated the

chart and, even though I expected it to describe the

job, I was surprised by the power of the astrological

symbolism. I had applied for many jobs but wanted one

in commodity trading. There were few opportunities in

what is a small field but three companies had

approached the university and I applied to them all.

Two offered me interviews but only one offered me a

job, which was the one I accepted. When applying for

the jobs, I knew next to nothing about these three

companies but later realised I had been extremely

fortunate in the job offer I received; within three

years, the company that had not offered me an

interview was bankrupt and within five years the

company that had offered me an interview but no job

had begun to downsize and was eventually taken over,

while the company I joined (at that time a fairly

small company) became the most successful commodity-

trading company in history and is currently one of the

largest private companies in the world.

This good fortune is shown in the horoscope by

Jupiter on the Ascendant and Venus on the Midheaven.115

The Midheaven is associated with careers, Venus is

significant for copper, and I spent most of my working

114

10.58 BST, 30th

April 1979. The job offer was sent from London, although I collected the

telegram in Oxford after 10.58. I calculate the chart for London but it makes little difference to

the angles. 115

Jupiter and Venus are considered benefic planets bringing good fortune. Jupiter is usually

considered the “greater fortune” and Venus the “lesser fortune”. The angles are considered

powerful places for any planet to be placed; the Ascendant is concerned with life and how one

presents oneself to the world, while the Midheaven is more concerned with careers.

332

life trading copper concentrates. But it is never

easy working for a successful company in what is

considered a cut-throat business because the company

culture will be orientated around work, competition

and achievement; the concept of a work-life balance

rarely exists in a high pressure environment. Such

constant anxiety is shown by the Moon close to the

cusp of the twelfth house.116

On the surface it makes little sense to say that

the astrology only started when I calculated the

chart, because it had been “working” from the moment

of the job offer; by the time I drew up the chart I

was already working in copper concentrates, the

company was already the premier commodity trading

company in the world, and my career was a “success”.

However, it does not follow from this that the

astrology was “working” without an astrological

interpretation. If we consider astrology “working” as

an astrological experience then it is clear that no

astrological experience took place until there was an

astrological interpretation; if we want to say that I

was affected, or the company was affected, by

planetary movements then that will require empirical

support.

The best way to consider this example is to see

the telegram as an omen (or a sign from the responsive

cosmos); an omen which I read several years after the

event. What is unique about astrology is that its

varieties of omens – because they are times – can

often be read after the event, whereas other omens

116

The twelfth house is associated with such matters as anxieties, affliction, fear, misery and

self-undoing.

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cannot. Many omens disappear with the moment and if

we miss them we miss them. For all I know, there was

a flock of birds flying over my college at the time I

picked up the telegram, which Xenophon might have

interpreted as an omen of “good fortune”. What made

this telegram an omen for me was that the astrological

symbols did describe the job; if they did not, it

would just have been a time kept for nostalgic

reasons. Indeed, because the symbols described the

job, I could use them to make judgments about the

future; for instance, observing Saturn in the second

house, suggesting loss or disappointment with money; a

symbol which was by no means clear because it was a

financially rewarding job.117

117

Arguably a symbol which is still playing its part as, at the time of writing (May 2010), it is

reported the company will obtain a listing on the London Stock Market, leading to considerable

fortunes for senior executives.

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Chapter Fifteen: Problems Solved Part 2 – Criteria

Introduction

In the abstract to his critique, “The Concepts of

Modern Astrology”, Ivan Kelly says:

… there is little agreement on basic issues

and on how to resolve differences among

astrological techniques and ideas.

Astrological symbolism is unsystematic and

based on metaphors, analogies, verbal

associations, and mythology, which are

developed in different ways by astrologers

with no clear way of evaluating them (Kelly:

1997).118

For Kelly astrology should be a science but its

methodology fails to conform to scientific standards

so it should be reformed or rejected. The hypothesis

of the Responsive Cosmos removes astrology from the

scientific realm and puts it into the field of

divination but this does not mean that Kelly‟s

criticism goes away. If the Responsive Cosmos

responds to the individual astrologer, then it leaves

open the issue of how astrologers evaluate these

different techniques and procedures. If the

Responsive Cosmos is relative to the individual

astrologer, if it responds to the techniques that each

118

The critique was originally published in Psychological Reports, 1997, 81, p 1035-1066, but

this quotation is taken from www.astrology-and-science.com

335

astrologer uses, then it would appear that any

technique will work and there is no criteria to choose

between them. If this is the case then it really does

seem that "anything goes". Indeed, this is one reason

why an astrologer like Harvey was so insistent on

empirical tests. One of his criticisms of divinatory

astrology was that it "seems to remove from

astrological practice any secure basis for

interpretation” (1994: 398). Many astrologers and

critics agree with him that this is a problem.

Astrological thinking

The approach that one needs to take is not to look for

one absolute criterion, like empirical evidence, but

to consider the nature of astrological thinking and

the criteria that it provides for evaluating

astrological interpretations and techniques. This

approach is in the Oakeshott tradition of treating

each discipline as a subject in its own right, with

its own conversation, and not as part of some other

discipline like science. Thus, for Oakeshott history

and philosophy are different languages, different

modes of thought:

Each of these manners of thinking is a genuine

mode of explanation: each operates with clear

criteria of relevance; each is capable of

reaching conclusions appropriate to itself; in

each it may be said that this or that is an

error, but also (and more significantly) that

this or that is out of character; and

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statements made in these „languages‟ do not

pretend to have injunctive force (1991: 212).

We can do this by considering astrological methodology

and using that methodology to develop appropriate

criteria to criticise and evaluate astrological

judgments.

We have said that in the process of realising a

symbol the divinatory astrologer will place different

possible meanings for the astrological symbol in the

context until he/she knows the appropriate meaning for

the matter being considered has been found. As

mentioned in chapter four on astrological methodology

this knowing, in part, is relative to the astrologer

because only the astrologer will know when he/she

“knows”, but it is not completely relative to the

astrologer, because what one “knows” will also come

from the extant astrological tradition. Equally, the

context is also relative, in part, to the astrologer

because the astrologer is an integral part of the

context, although it is not entirely relative to the

astrologer because there may be a client, who will

then become an integral part of the context, and even

if there is no client, part of the context will be

objective to the astrologer. We have also suggested

that the Responsive Cosmos will respond to the

particular techniques that the astrologer uses;

however, again, the astrologer must choose the

technique from the extant tradition.

Thus, there is much involved in the astrological

process which is relative to the astrologer, but there

is much which is not, and there are many areas in

337

which one can legitimately criticise an astrological

interpretation. This point is not new and holds good

for many disciplines where knowledge of that

discipline, knowledge of how to do something, will

entitle that person to criticise and evaluate others.

It is a point that is made in the philosophy of

hermeneutics – a philosophy primarily concerned with

developing an appropriate methodology for

interpretation in the humanities. Thus, according to

Grondin, “Godamer‟s depiction of understanding as

participating in an occurrence of tradition means that

subjectivity is not completely in control of what in

particular strikes it as being sense or nonsense”

(1994: 116) while Grodin himself tells us that “the

soul‟s inner conversation…precludes all arbitrariness

of interpretation” (ibid: 141).

These are exactly the same points that we have

been making. The tradition of astrology means that an

astrologer cannot choose whatever techniques he/she

wants without being subject to criticism from other

astrologers, while the knowing and realising of the

astrological symbol, the soul‟s inner dialogue with

the Responsive Cosmos, is not arbitrary but must

result in relevant guidance. If it does not then one

can question whether any knowing actually took place.

As Wittgenstein says, when discussing aesthetic

judgments, one has to learn the rules in order to make

a judgment in the first place but we can “distinguish

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between a person who knows what he is talking about

and a person who doesn‟t” (1966: 5-6).119

It will be possible to argue that the chosen

astrological interpretation for a symbol is a poor one

because it does not describe or fit the context. In

this situation the claim that one “knew” the symbol is

insufficient because, as we have argued in chapter

four, knowing the symbol is not a process separate to

the tradition: what one knows comes from that

tradition.

It will also be possible to argue that too much

weight has been put on a particular symbol, or

technique, resulting in unconvincing astrology. For

example, one would expect an important, life-changing

event to be symbolised by an important astrological

symbol in a powerful position. One would expect this

because this is the accumulated experience of those

astrologers who have gone before us and has become

part of the astrological tradition. Thus, if one uses

an obscure lot, a minor mid-point, or a little-used

aspect, to describe this life-changing event,

especially if there is a more obvious alternative,

then few people will be convinced. It will also be

possible to argue that an astrological rule has been

applied inappropriately or incorrectly; for example,

if one said in our example horoscope that the Sun, as

the ruler of the twelfth house, was significant for

homes and houses, one would be making an error because

one would not be using the language of astrology

correctly and others conversant in that language would

119

Quotes from this book refer to page numbers. The quotes are not from Wittgenstein but from

the lecture notes of his students.

339

not understand you; one would be speaking the language

of astrology incoherently.

What is necessary is to examine the manner in

which the astrological symbol was interpreted and

whether the meaning chosen was appropriate. One does

this by analysing the process of placing the symbol in

context and not by attempting to fix the meaning of

the symbol through one‟s own personal research. If

one fixes the meaning for a symbol through one‟s own

personal research and then uses that as a criterion

for evaluating astrological interpretations then one

is, in effect, proposing an entirely different

astrological methodology. There is nothing unusual in

determining if a symbol fits the context and then

criticising it if it does not. It is a methodology

used by other disciplines. For example, David West

criticises various interpretations of Shakespeare‟s

sonnets because those interpretations have failed to

produce an appropriate meaning for the words that

Shakespeare uses. He tells us, “Many words in English

have a wide range of meanings. Readers of listeners

plot their route through thickets of association by

the simple method of seizing on meanings relevant to

the context.” If they are unable to do this, or do it

in an inappropriate manner, one can criticise

accordingly, (2003: 393-4).

The astrological tradition

The astrological tradition can be used to help

evaluate astrological interpretations but it is a

mistake to think, as some astrologers have, that it

340

can provide absolute authority. In the Moment of

Astrology, Cornelius suggests that there may be a

consistent and communicable tradition of astrological

interpretation and Bird cites an astrologer who claims

to rely entirely on the tradition of “tried and tested

rules passed down through many centuries by

generations of astrologers” (2006: 90) who later

suggests that “the individual practitioner cedes

agency to the tradition she learns and works with in

direct proportion to her hands-on involvement with it”

(ibid: 91).

This sort of authority, of course, could never be

provided by the astrological tradition. All of the

varied techniques that astrologers actually use go

into the tradition so the tradition will be unable to

provide a criterion to choose between them. These

different parts of the tradition will always be open

to interpretation so they cannot provide a clear

absolute authority. The best description of a

tradition that I know is Oakeshott's:

Now, a tradition of behaviour is a tricky

thing to get to know. Indeed, it may even

appear to be essentially unintelligible. It

is neither fixed nor finished; it has no

changeless centre to which understanding can

anchor itself; there is no sovereign purpose

to be perceived or invariable direction to be

detected; there is no model to be copied, idea

to be realised, or rule to be followed. Some

parts of it may change more slowly than

others, but none is immune from change.

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Everything is temporary. Nevertheless, though

a tradition of behaviour is flimsy and

elusive, it is not without identity, and what

makes it a possible object of knowledge is the

fact that all its parts do not change at the

same time and that the changes it undergoes

are potential within it. Its principle is a

principle of continuity: authority is

diffused between past, present, and future;

between the old, the new, and what is to come.

It is steady because, though it moves, it is

never wholly in motion; and though it is

tranquil, it is never wholly at rest. Nothing

that ever belonged to it is completely lost;

we are always swerving back to recover and

make something topical out of even its

remotest moments; and nothing for long remains

unmodified. Everything is temporary, but

nothing is arbitrary. Everything figures by

comparison, not with what stands next to it,

but with the whole (1991: 61).

For Oakeshott all tradition was like this, from

ship building, to modern physics, to cricket. The

astrological tradition is particularly loose because

so many ideas and principles coalesce together. It is

not just that it is unclear what the tradition

consists of, or when some particular technique becomes

part of the tradition, or when another technique falls

out of the tradition, or if it can fall out of the

tradition, but that the tradition contains

contradictory elements.

342

The idea that there is one seamless tradition

which can clearly be followed and could be used as an

authority on which all would agree is a fiction, if

not an absurdity. Similarly, one cannot easily cede

agency to the tradition because one will always have

to make choices from within that tradition.120

For

example, Ptolemy and Valens were both writing about

astrology in first century Alexandria. For Valens,

the main determinant of planetary signification was

whether they were malefic or benefic (we have already

quoted the largely malefic qualities which Valens

gives to Saturn). Ptolemy accepted this, and it seems

likely that it was the prevailing tradition, but he

introduced a new theory of planetary essences in which

planetary significations are derived from the

Aristotelian qualities of hot, cold, moist and dry.

We have already seen how a cold and dry Saturn is

unable to account for why Saturn is significant for

waterside trades but these planetary essences entered

the astrological tradition and are still with us

today. Thus, there are two different theories of how

planetary significations are derived from the first

written sources of the astrological tradition. It is

possible for an astrological signification derived

from the Aristotelian qualities of a planet to

contradict its malefic/benefic nature. For example,

an astrologer following Ptolemy may argue that the

“core” meaning of Mars is that he is hot and dry (its

Aristotelian qualities), that this can lead to a

120

I suspect that the astrologers Bird spoke to were ceding authority to their teachers. One does

do that when one embarks upon astrology – it is the process of learning from a skilled

practitioner.

343

passionate nature, which in certain situations will

lead to anger and fights but in other situations will

lead to vitality and life. However, if it leads to

vitality and life it contradicts the malefic

understanding of Mars held by Valens.

The tradition cannot help one choose between

these different interpretations because it contains

both. One might want to argue that Ptolemy was a

maverick writing contrary to the existing tradition,

as represented by Valens (Valens does not refer to him

although he was writing only twenty-five years after

Ptolemy and mentions countless other astrologers).121

However, this argument will lead nowhere. We have

already proposed a methodology for choosing a

planetary signification and that is realising the

symbol. If this is our methodology then a particular

strand in the tradition cannot automatically, or

mechanically, be given precedence; what will matter is

how the astrologer realises the symbol and one

astrologer might find the significations provided by

Valens appropriate for the context they are

considering while another finds those provided by

Ptolemy to be more appropriate.

However, none of this means that we cannot use

the astrological tradition to evaluate astrological

interpretations, only that we must provide reasons for

why or how we are using it.

121

Surprising when you consider the importance Ptolemy has had on the development of

Western astrology.

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Using the astrological tradition to evaluate astrology

The astrological tradition consists of many different

strands, so at times one will have different

understandings of the same matter, or different ways

of approaching the same matter. However, this is not

the same as saying one can ignore the tradition

altogether because, as Oakeshott says, “it belongs to

the nature of a tradition to tolerate and unite an

internal variety, not insisting upon conformity to a

single character, and because, further, it has the

ability to change without losing its identity” (1991:

227). Even if the tradition allows for certain

practices which are apparently contradictory, it does

not follow one can do what one wants: as Bird says,

“she cannot indulge in free-form imaginings and still

remain accountable to a tradition of horoscopy” (2006:

93).

The problem for many people is that they want to

use the tradition to say that one astrological

interpretation is wrong and another is right in an

absolute sense. They want to be able to use the

tradition to be categorical in their judgments and

want it to provide support that might be equivalent to

that provided by a criterion which was outside the

practice of astrology. However, the tradition is not

outside the practice of astrology, it is part of it,

so all one can do is to point out that within that

practice the particular use of a technique or symbol

is inappropriate, or that insufficient weight has been

given to one part of the tradition, or too much weight

to another part of the tradition. The tradition

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consists of past astrological practice and is integral

to current astrological practice, which itself will,

in time, become part of the tradition, and different

astrologers, who have different practices, will have

different views and understandings of the tradition.

The tradition, therefore, can be used to criticise

astrological interpretations and there will be

legitimate arguments and disagreements about what the

tradition is and which parts of it are stronger.

We can use the astrological tradition for making

criticisms of astrological judgments without having to

resort to a superior criterion. This, as Oakeshott

points out, is what we do in all our deliberations:

They [beliefs] are aids to deliberation,

guesses of varying generality, made with

differing degrees of confidence and drawing

upon evidence of varying quality, which, in

deliberation, are not subjected to the test of

a criterion superior to themselves but are

made to criticise and illuminate one another

(1975: 45).

Contradictions within the tradition, or different

interpretations of the tradition, are not something

which should stop us from making appropriate

criticism; as Bird says:

A widespread failure on the part of

practitioners to apply a clearly defined

method, and to know at least something of its

provenance, would usher in a world of

346

astrological solipsism and privilege the

authoritative agency of the practitioner over

and above the art, flying in the face of

astrology‟s well recorded tradition and

upsetting the historically underwritten

relationship between art and artist; no wonder

that anyone suspected of making it up as they

go along is frowned upon by all serious

astrologers (2006: 67).

Oakeshott‟s discussion of the tradition of political

education is also relevant here. He says it “is not

merely a matter of coming to understand a tradition,

it is learning how to participate in a conversation:

it is at once initiation into an inheritance in which

we have a life interest, and the explorations of its

intimations” (1991: 62). To participate in the

conversation of astrology, you have to learn the rules

and then, using the rules, you have to think

astrologically and interpret astrological symbols.

Elsewhere, Oakeshott says, “For an agent to conduct a

practice is an instrument to be played upon, and to do

this he must have the understanding of a performer”

(1975: 91). If we are able to play the instrument –

and in many cases even if we are unable to play – we

will be able to distinguish between skilled and

unskilled playing; if other astrologers believe that

the astrologer has made a poor choice of technique,

rule or interpretation, it should be possible to have

a conversation, with both sides producing their

reasons.

347

However, in practice, astrologers are often unable

to engage in a conversation (see Ashumun (1996/7) and

her comments on astrological discussions on the

internet). This is partly because, as Bird says,

“Astrologers have no tradition of acknowledging,

criticising or debating the relative merits of each

other‟s techniques and methods, or ideas” (2006: 59).

But it may also be because astrologers are not clear

about what they are doing. If an astrologer thinks

that his/her personal research is the equivalent of

scientific empirical research then he/she leaves

little room for compromise if another astrologer uses

his/her own research to assert the exact opposite.

In the final resort, if the astrologer being

questioned simply responds to criticism with, “I knew

the symbol”, the conversation may stop, but that

simply means that astrologer is not prepared to

discuss what he/she is doing when practising

astrology, and is not prepared to engage in the

conversation of astrology which involves the

interpretation of symbols

Further methods of evaluating the astrological

interpretation

Other criteria exist which can be use to evaluate

astrological judgments. Astrological techniques

should be relevant for the needs of the client, or the

people using them. If one has a client who wants some

form of counselling then a form of psychological

astrology which can provide that counselling might be

necessary. The techniques employed in psychological

348

astrology which are meant to help the client

understand his/her own psyche may work better than the

techniques which are meant to be specific about what

will happen. We can say, then, that the type of

astrology must be relevant and appropriate for the

matter being looked at.

Astrological techniques, and the astrology being

used, should be capable of providing the information

required. If one wants to know “Is there a house for

me in the Lake District?” one is going to have to use

a technique which can provide an answer.

Psychological astrology will be of no use here because

the techniques it uses, developed to provide a form of

psychological counselling, cannot provide the specific

information of whether there is a house and whether it

will be bought; it is likely that one will use a form

of horary astrology as the techniques of horary

astrology do aim at answering these sorts of matters.

In recent years, partly as a reaction to psychological

astrology which some consider to be too vague, there

has been renewed interest in older techniques, which

are able to provide more precise information. One

cannot say that one type of astrology is better than

the other type of astrology, but one can say that, if

one wants precision, an astrology which can provide

such precision is more suitable for that purpose.

In addition we can say that it is important that

the methodology should be clear. In this thesis we

are concerned with divinatory astrology, an astrology

which assumes the involvement of a responsive cosmos.

If astrology is a language allowing for a dialogue

between our reality and an alternative reality then

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that language should be as clear as possible. If our

methodology is contradictory, within its own terms,

then our language will be unclear and we are unlikely

to hear clear answers.

We cannot separate the importance of the

tradition and the need for a clear language. If we

want a clear language when communicating with the

Responsive Cosmos then, despite the contradictions of

the tradition, we cannot completely ignore it and go

off on our own tangent because we would be creating an

incomprehensible dialect, our language would become

unclear and an unclear language is likely to result in

unclear answers. We can go further than this. There

are so many possible techniques available to

astrologers (see Dean 1977: 35) that it will be

necessary for every astrologer to be discriminating

and choose between different techniques in order to

have a clear methodology and language. However, this

choice cannot be made irrespective of the tradition.

The techniques are taken from the tradition, and that

includes the package of techniques which makes up the

methodology of an individual astrologer. If an

astrologer simply chooses a package of techniques with

no reference to what people have done before then that

astrologer is less likely to produce a clear and

reliable methodology because the tradition will pass

down those methodologies that astrologers have found

useful and effective.122 This, however, is hardly a

surprising observation. If astrology is a craft, a

122

We should make it clear that what astrologers find useful and effective will vary from age to

age and from astrologer to astrologer depending on what the astrologer is trying to do with

astrology.

350

skill, then one learns from what has gone before – one

learns how to think astrologically – and if one

ignores what has gone before one is unlikely to be as

successful as those who take it into consideration.

To acquire astrological fluency an astrologer

needs to give considerable thought to the vocabulary

and grammar of his/her language, to the particular

methodology that he/she uses. Indeed, the argument

that if the cosmos responds to the individual

astrological techniques being used, it follows that

any technique will do and all techniques are the same,

is fatuous and falls apart upon examination. If the

Responsive Cosmos does respond to individual

astrological techniques then the techniques chosen by

the astrologer will be absolutely paramount in

importance because any information received will be in

response to those techniques chosen. As Cornelius

says:

Every detail of our method, each technical

choice we knowingly or unknowingly make,

frames and structures our assignation of

significance, and the results we obtain are a

function of that assignation (2003: 247).

We can demonstrate this point if we consider the

asteroid Chiron. The meaning usually ascribed to the

asteroid Chiron is the "wounded healer" so if one

includes it in one's astrological practice one will

have astrological charts in which the wounded healer

is relevant. This is necessarily the case because one

is using Chiron and one has decided that it is

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significant for the wounded healer. If one does not

use Chiron, and has no astrological symbol in the

horoscope which is significant for the wounded healer,

then issues concerning the wounded healer will not

arise or, if they do arise, will arise in a different

form. This is necessarily the case because one has

not ascribed the “wounded healer” to any significator.

This is not to say that to have an astrological symbol

significant for the wounded healer is right or wrong

but to say that the choice of techniques and

significations is important and should not be taken

lightly.

We can say something in addition: the astrologer

who wants to introduce Chiron should say why he/she

wants to introduce Chiron, while the astrologer who

does not want to introduce Chiron should say why

he/she does not want to introduce it; thereby clearly

setting out the parameters of the astrological

conversation. One cannot categorically say one

practice is wrong and another right, but one can

produce reasoned arguments about why one chooses one

method over another method.

For example, I do not use the outer planets in

horary charts. My reasons are as follows:

historically, there were two malefic planets, Mars and

Saturn, and two benefic planets, Venus and Jupiter.

However, the outer planets have taken over many

malefic significations from the original planets

(Lehman 1992: 10-11). This would mean that if one

includes them, one has five malefic planets and two

benefic planets. Given that ideally one wants to make

a balanced judgment then, in my view, one should have

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a balance between benefic and malefic planets; if one

does not do this there is a danger of focusing or

over-emphasising the malefic aspects of an issue

rather than the benefic aspects. The disadvantage of

not using the outer planets is that they have taken on

some modern significations – for example, Uranus is

significant for electricity. However, if one wants a

significator for electricity one can always include

Uranus on a one off basis. So, these are my reasons

for excluding the outer planets; one is entitled to

criticise them, to say why one disagrees, but not

simply to dismiss them as wrong.

One further reason for following the tradition

If we accept the involvement of a responsive cosmos

then we are not simply reading a system but are asking

another entity for guidance, so it behoves us to treat

that entity with a certain respect and humility. One

way of doing this is to be respectful to what others

have done before us (the tradition). The tradition is

powerful. Many people have followed it and we are

still using techniques from two thousand years ago.

To ignore it shows an unnecessary ignorance or

arrogance.

Secure interpretations

Harvey‟s concern was that, without empirical support,

there was a lack of security in an astrological

interpretation. Other astrologers are concerned by

this which is one reason they still hope for positive

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results from empirical tests. Cornelius' work points

the way to a better solution. The security of an

interpretation depends on putting that interpretation

in the context of the matter being looked at. If we

decide on a particular interpretation by referring to

the context, if we have that sense of “knowing” when

we place a symbol in its context, if we realise a

symbol by placing it in that context, then that is

where we should find the security of that

interpretation. It follows that the tighter we can

describe the context with the astrological symbols,

the closer the symbol appears to “fit” or describe the

matter being considered, the more the interpretation

will move from the speculative to the realised.

Obviously, as we have already argued, one will be

bringing one‟s subjective viewpoint to the

interpretation, and that will inevitably influence it.

There is nothing one can do about that, although we

could, if we were concerned, reduce its impact by

asking for comments from other astrologers.

If one wants the sort of security that might be

provided by empirical evidence, one will be

disappointed. But astrology is not a science and we

are not discussing house building; we are assuming the

involvement of the Responsive Cosmos and it is

unrealistic to expect the same sort of security from a

non-material realm. Having said that, if we do our

best to ground the symbols in the context, our own

subjective influence will be limited, but we should be

aware that the further we go from the context, the

less we ground the symbols, the more speculative the

interpretation is likely to become, and the further we

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go from mundane subjects, the further we move towards

philosophical subjects, the more possible

interpretations any given symbol will have.

In practice, the leeway that one has in

interpreting a chart will depend on the context. In

our example horoscope, “Is there a house for me in the

Lake District?” it is clear that the leeway is

limited. The question provides a rigid framework and,

if one is following the rules of horary, one will take

the Moon or the ruler of the Ascendant as the

significator for the querent, and one will take

Jupiter, as ruler of the fourth house and approaching

the cusp of the fourth house, as significator for the

house sought.

However, although the basic significators are

fixed, the interpretation, or judgment, is not fixed

in quite the same way. I think it is fair to say that

most horary astrologers judging this chart would say,

“Yes, there is a house for you in the Lake District”,

because the weight of the astrology suggests that.

However, as previously mentioned, this is by no means

a perfect horary. The Moon applies to a square of

Mercury, considered a difficult aspect, and Mercury is

in the sixth house, considered a weak position.

Jupiter is not a particularly apt symbol for a house,

although it does describe the sense of freedom that

this house would bring in this context. However, this

is in the nature of astrological judgments. Rarely do

all the astrological factors suggest either “yes” or

“no”, even in a comparatively simply question like

this, and a judgment has to be made.

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Relativism

We are writing from a perspective which doubts that it

is possible to find universal laws in science so it is

hardly surprising that we argue one cannot find an

absolute criterion for astrology, a discipline which

is not a science. However, this approach is

considered too relativistic by some astrologers and

many critics. An extreme example of this position can

be found in the review of Astrology, Science and

Culture by Dean et al. in which they say "in

postmodernism any set of terms is as good as any

other. You can dismiss whatever you want just because

you don‟t like it, period.”123

However, it is unlikely that anyone actually

believes any set of terms is as good as any other. As

Midgley puts it: “No reasonable person is really an

extreme relativist of the kind that might suppose that

everything currently allowed to be equally right or

„valid‟” (2001: 166). There is a difference between

what Latour calls “absolute relativism” and “relative

relativism”; absolute relativism being the view that a

“reference to some absolute yardstick is essential” as

opposed to relative relativism, the view that there

are “inequalities, hierarchies and differences” and

that what matters is determining what “instruments”

and “chains” create them (1993: 112-113).

The position of this thesis is that relative

relativism is the appropriate approach to astrological

judgments and interpretations; that one can make

123

www.science-and-astrology.com

356

reasoned criticisms of astrological judgments but

those criticisms will not have absolute force. It is

an error to argue that without an absolute criterion

that "anything goes" because as Smith shows one cannot

argue from a lack of an absolute criterion that any

argument is as good as another (1997: 61 and 78). It

is not the case that that the lack of an absolute

criterion for astrology will make all arguments and

criticisms of it the same. For example, it would be

possible to judge an astrological interpretation by

its length, but no one would suggest, with the lack of

an absolute criterion, that this is a sensible

proposal and that one interpretation is better than

another because it is longer, or shorter.

Richard Rorty, well known for his views on the

matter, highlights what is probably the key issue:

… the real issue is not between people who

think one view as good as another and people

who do not. It is between those who think our

culture, or purpose, or intuitions cannot be

supported except conversationally, and people

who still hope for other sorts of support

(1982: 167).

However, although this thesis touches upon the broader

philosophical debate it is not necessary for us to

argue for or against these different philosophical

positions. Instead, what is necessary is to detail

what is relevant to the practice of astrology. In

conclusion to this chapter we can say the following.

The assumption of the Responsive Cosmos entails a

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dialogue between astrologer and the Responsive Cosmos.

This necessarily means that the astrological

interpretation is in part relative to the astrologer.

This contribution by the astrologer is a constitutive

part of the astrological interpretation. If it is a

constitutive part of that interpretation then

searching for criteria outside the practice of

astrology to provide an absolute criterion to evaluate

that interpretation will be self-defeating. It will

be self defeating because one would be introducing

factors to evaluate the interpretation which were not

constitutive parts of that interpretation. If one did

this there would be no reason to assume that the

astrological interpretation would fulfil the criteria

being used to evaluate it. The sensible procedure

would then be to include the factors being used to

evaluate the interpretation in the interpretive

process, so that they become constituent parts of that

interpretation. However, if one did this one would be

reforming astrological practice. Instead of

attempting to reform practice one could instead reject

the proposed outside criteria. This indeed is what

has happened: divinatory astrologers reject the

criteria of empirical evidence for evaluating

astrological interpretations.

Indeed, far from creating a problem for astrology

the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos liberates it

from this need to find outside criteria which the

Responsive Cosmos, by definition, is incompatible

with. Instead, one must find criteria from within the

practice of astrology to evaluate astrological

interpretations. No one would suggest that criticism

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and evaluation cannot be done. An acceptance of this

position, a realisation that a search for criteria

from outside the practice of astrology is

contradictory, would enable astrologers to create

their own discipline of astrological criticism.

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Chapter Sixteen – Problems Solved Part 3: Astrological

knowledge

Introduction

Some argue that if one moves astrology from the realm

of science to the field of divination it cannot

provide knowledge. Information derived from an

astrological enquiry which is divinatory, it is

claimed, does not add to our knowledge of the world.

The standard definition of “knowledge that” is

provided by philosopher Jonathan Dancy as follows:

The standard account of knowledge, around

which all recent work has been done, defines

knowledge as justified true belief; it holds

that a knows that p if and only if

1 p

2 a believes that p

3 a‟s belief that p is justified (1985:

23).

We might for clarity change the first condition to „it

is true that p‟ because that is what this account of

knowledge is aiming at.

The criteria usually accepted, for something to be

“knowledge that”, are empirical evidence and deductive

logic. Understood like this, any information derived

from divinatory astrology does not add to knowledge.

One may be tempted to argue that astrological

knowledge is similar to “knowledge that” because, for

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example, in our example horoscope, Mercury in Pisces

in the sixth house represents the querent, and all

astrologers will recognise that Mercury in its

detriment and fall, in a cadent house, about to go

retrograde, is in a weak and difficult position and

that, as a symbol for the querent, she would be in a

similar position. This observation, however, only

applies to this context and one can make no claim that

Mercury in Pisces, in the sixth house, about to go

retrograde will always mean “the querent is in a

difficult situation” without empirical support.

However, many people now argue that this

understanding of knowledge is too narrow. In this

chapter we will consider these arguments and show how

the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos can show us

the type of information the astrological enquiry

produces.

Varieties of knowledge

Michael Polanyi was one of the first writers to say

unambiguously that scientific knowledge was derived in

a more complex manner than often thought. In Science,

Faith and Society (1946) Polyani argued that knowing

consisted of two types of awareness: the focal and

the subsidiary. In a subsequent work in puts it as

follows:

A striking feature of knowing a skill is the

presence of two different kinds of awareness of

the things that we are skilfully handling.

When I use a hammer to drive a nail, I attend

361

to both, but quite differently. I watch the

effects of my strokes on the nail as I wield

the hammer. I do not feel that its handle has

struck my palm but that its head has struck the

nail. In another sense, of course, I am highly

alert to the feelings in my palm and fingers

holding the hammer … I may say that I have a

subsidiary awareness of the feelings in my hand

which is merged into my focal awareness of my

driving a nail (1975: 33).

For Polyani knowing comprises of the integration

of these two types of awareness and is what he

calls tacit knowledge: “All knowledge falls into

one of these two classes: it is either tacit or

rooted in tacit knowledge” (1969: 195).

Polyani was interested in showing “that all

knowing includes the personal participation of the

knower and operates within a fiduciary framework”

so that “it follows that all knowing – whether

scientific or humane – is on the same

epistemological footing” (Mitchell 2006: 99). If

Polyani could do this, he could dismantle the

fact-value distinction and he “offers his

postcritical theory of knowledge in an attempt to

give legitimate voice to those things we value

most, despite the fact that they are not

empirically verifiable“ (ibid: 100).

For Polyani, himself a trained scientist,

knowledge consisted of much more than “knowledge

that”. Others have followed Polyani. Oakeshott, who

specifically mentions Polyani's work, argues that

362

there are at least two types of knowledge (1991: 12-

15): technical knowledge, which is knowing the rules

of a practice and how to implement them; and practical

knowledge, which “exists only in use, is not

reflective and (unlike technique) cannot be formulated

in rules”. He argues that: “These two sorts of

knowledge, then, distinguishable but inseparable, are

the twin components of the knowledge involved in every

concrete human activity” (1991: 12).124

We can provide a good example of what is meant

by practical knowledge by quoting from John Ruskin's

description of building a bridge in Stones of Venice:

There is no saying how much wit, how much

depth of thought, how much fancy, presence of

mind, courage, and fixed resolution there may

have gone into the placing of a single stone

of it. This is what we have to admire, - this

grand power and heart of man in the thing; not

his technical or empirical way of holding the

trowel and laying mortar (Vol.1: 44).125

We can all learn the technical knowledge that teaches

us how to place one brick on another brick in order to

build a bridge, but only a few of us will have the

practical knowledge required to build a beautiful

bridge. We cannot learn to build a beautiful bridge

124

Oakeshott makes specific reference to Polyani‟s Science, Faith and Society. See Mitchell

(2006) chapter five for a discussion of the influence of Polyani‟s work on Oakeshott. 125

For a full discussion of the differences between technical knowledge and practical knowledge

pertaining to art, with particular reference to architecture, see Stones of Venice, Vol. 3, pp 39-

66.

363

from rules; we can learn from experience, and from

other master builders.126

This position is now so widely held that it is

possible for Scruton, in his general survey of modern

philosophy, to say, “But there are many varieties of

knowledge: as many varieties as there are different

kinds of rational success” (1994: 325). He names six

of them with no suggestion that his list of six limits

the possible varieties of knowledge: knowing that;

knowing which and who; knowing how; knowing what;

knowing what it‟s like; and plain knowing. Scruton‟s

point is that there are many methods of enquiry about

the world, all of which aim at different targets and

try to achieve different things. It is not the case

that the scientific approach is the only way we can

understand the world.

In Return to Reason (2001) Toulmin, who also

mentions Polyani's work, provides a list of four

varieties of knowledge - episteme, teche, phronesis

and metis - all of which require varying amounts of

technical and practical knowledge. At one pole is

episteme, which is “knowledge that” and relies on

logic and empirical experiments; further along the

pole is techne, which Scruton calls “knowledge how”,

which is concerned with the mastery of technique; then

comes phronesis, practical wisdom, which Scruton calls

“knowledge what”, which is concerned with what to

feel, or what to do, in a given situation; while at

the other end of the pole is metic knowledge, which

126

It might be argued that Ruskin provides a poor example because it is possible to build a

beautiful bridge by placing one brick upon another in accordance with a beautiful design.

However, the point holds: there is an elusive, ineffable „something‟ which separates the artist

from the technician.

364

Scruton does not mention, which is, as mentioned

above, largely non-verbal, consisting of craft, guile

and a sense of 'knack' (ibid: 178-89). This non-

verbal knowledge allows Toumlin to conclude that

philosophers will be unable to develop a fully verbal

account of knowledge (ibid: 184).

The astrological interpretation

Making an astrological judgment or interpretation will

require the technical knowledge of knowing the rules

of astrology. However, it will also require what

Oakeshott calls the practical knowledge of “knowing"

the symbol during the process of realising. Thus,

there is the technical knowledge of knowing that Venus

is, among other things, significant for erotic love

and the practical knowledge of being able to choose,

in a particular context, one meaning of Venus over

another. It is not only the technical matter of

knowing the five hundred different significations of

Venus in Lehman‟s The Book of Rulerships (1992),127

but

the practical matter of being familiar with the

symbols and recognising that in this particular

context Venus is significant for, say, the throat.

This is not something which can be taught by following

rules but is learnt through the practice of astrology.

Oakeshott does not mention metic knowledge, but as we

have already mentioned in our chapter on astrological

methodology, this realising of an astrological symbol

may just consist of the „knack‟ or 'just knowing'

127

Or more likely owning Lehman‟s book so that one can check the different possible meanings.

365

which is the non-verbal metic knowledge detailed by

Toulmin.

Thus, we can say that an astrological

interpretation requires both technical knowledge and

the experience of learning of a craft through

practice, which Oakeshott calls practical knowledge.

Often, this practical knowledge will include the metic

knowledge of „just knowing‟ that one has found the

correct meaning.

Astrological knowledge

Making an astrological interpretation may require

technical and practical knowledge, but the

interpretation does not produce either of these

varieties of knowledge. Metic knowledge may also be

involved but as metic knowledge is the „knack‟ or

„knowing‟ involved in choosing the astrological symbol

it is not the information provided by interpretation.

An astrological interpretation provides advice.

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos shows us the

variety of knowledge that it provides. We have

already mentioned that an astrological enquiry is

essentially moral because another entity is involved.

If the process is moral and is not about “getting

things right” in accordance with an empirical

verification test, but in providing guidance from the

Responsive Cosmos then the variety of knowledge that

it conforms to is phronesis, practical wisdom, or

Scruton‟s “knowledge what”.

Astrology is concerned with what-to-do matters and

provides information which is meant as specific

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guidance for specific situations. This is practical

wisdom because it is concerned with making judgments

about the right way to conduct one's life. Practical

wisdom “is a true and reasoned state of capacity to

act with regard to the things which are good or bad

for man” (Aristotle 1980: 142). It is not a science

and it is not a matter of applying rules to a given

situation “but in making judgments which respond to

the prevailing circumstances” (Casey 1990: 170).

Practical wisdom is concerned with how to live a

life and what one should do in a given situation.

This is the same knowledge or guidance that might be

provided by answering the paradigmatic divinatory

question of Curry where what matters is “wisdom”

(Willis and Curry 2004: 109). Thus, we are not saying

that astrological information is practical wisdom

because of a particular quality which it has that we

can identify, but because it fulfils the purpose of

practical wisdom - it provides information on what to

do in a given situation.

The astrological enquiry is necessarily moral

because it involves another entity, and practical

wisdom is appropriate for this because, in the

broadest sense, it introduces the possibility of

morality, as all actions and modes of behaviour

require moral choices. It is the sort of knowledge

Oakeshott is referring to when he says, “free action

is not moral action unless it is also wise”. It is

part of his understanding of a moral action: “A

concrete moral action is the autonomous, free, and

adequate reaction of a personality to a situation”

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(1993: 44).128 (But see also 1975: 77-89). Scruton

describes it as follows:

A person may not know what to do or what to

feel, and it is in learning what to do and

what to feel that we acquire moral competence.

However thoughtful and skilled I may be as a

casuist, I may still not know what to do when

it comes to moral choice. A person who knows

what to do is the person who reliably does

what is right, whether or not he possesses the

skill to justify it (1994: 326).

Security of astrological knowledge

It might be argued that astrological knowledge,

described like this, is not secure because, unlike

“knowledge that”, it is not based on empirical

evidence and logical analysis but relies on a

hypothetical entity. This is true. However,

information is provided through the astrological

enquiry. No one doubts that – astrologers do make

judgments and provide information. The question is,

therefore, not whether or not astrologers provide

information but what sort of information they

provide. The sort of information provided falls

into category of practical wisdom irrespective of

whether or not one accepts the existence of the

Responsive Cosmos. Whether the Responsive Cosmos

exists or not is a separate issue to the sort of

128

Oakeshott‟s italics. Oakeshott does not elaborate on what is adequate – at least not in this

essay – but learning what is adequate is the sort of wisdom we are concerned with here.

368

knowledge provided. Whether one accepts the

existence of the Responsive Cosmos has implications

concerning the quality of the knowledge provided and

the seriousness with which one will consider it but

not the category of knowledge.

Conclusion

If we take the view that all knowledge is episteme

requiring either empirical evidence or logical

analysis to support it then astrology cannot provide

knowledge. If, however, one accepts that there are

different varieties of knowledge, provided through the

varieties of human experience, then the issue becomes

what sort of knowledge is provided through the

astrological enquiry. We have suggested that the sort

of knowledge it provides is phronesis, practical

knowledge about what to do in certain situations. We

have already suggested that the paradigmatic

astrological enquiry is concerned with obtaining

answers to what-to-do matters. Phronesis is concerned

with supplying those answers so it is appropriate that

astrology should provide this sort of knowledge.

We have already argued that astrology is

necessarily a moral process because it involves

another entity and the moment another entity is

involved a moral process is started. Thus, the

guidance from the Responsive Cosmos becomes moral

guidance, in the broadest sense, because it is

guidance about how to behave, or act, in certain

situations.

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Chapter Seventeen: Problems Solved part 4 - The

purchase of an astrological enquiry

Introduction

Moving astrology from the realm of science to the

field of divination concerns a number of astrologers

because it appears to remove the purpose of practising

astrology. If astrology does not obtain information

comparable to science then it is not clear why anyone

should be interested in it.

The problem for some astrologers is that the

understanding of astrology put forward in this thesis

reduces the scope of astrology. As mentioned, many

astrologers still cling to a neo-Platonic view of the

world and believe that astrology can tap into a

unifying thread which links all things. For example,

in the introduction to Mundane Astrology, (1992),

written by Michael Baigent, Nicholas Campion and

Charles Harvey, in arguing why mundane astrology,

concerned with the collective, should not suffer at

the expense of natal astrology which focuses on the

individual, the authors say that, by concentrating on

the individual an astrologer:

…draws attention away from the need for

transformation which is so urgently required

at the collective level. This transformation

is vital if humanity as a whole is to

recognise its choices and take the positive

route leading to evolution rather than the

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negative which may lead to mass destruction.

For such a transformation to occur, astrology

must begin to reapply its powers in earnest to

the study and elucidation of the workings of

the collective psyche, and the collective

unconscious as it reveals itself to us through

the actions and behaviours of groups, nations

and civilisations. Astrologers must meet the

challenge posed by the modern studies of

history, sociology, politics and economics,

and provide these disciplines with the one

quality which their current practitioners lack

– a sense of unity, of purpose and of destiny

(1992: 12).

One cannot even argue that Mundane Astrology provides

an isolated claim. For example, in a recent interview

Tarnas said, “I think that history textbooks of the

future will also look back on 20the century historians

working without the aid of astrology as resembling

medieval astronomers working without the aid of the

telescope” (McClelland 2007: 57). Thus, the voice of

history must bow to the voice of astrology.

In this thesis we have followed in the tradition

of Oakeshott and argued that each discipline has its

own voice and should be treated on its own merits. We

had in mind what Oakeshott calls the eristic claims of

science in which other subjects must bow down to

science. Thus, it is assumed astrology is a science

before it is dismissed as a pseudo-science. However,

we cannot deny that many astrologers claim the same

for astrology. This is the problem: by moving

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astrology firmly into the field of divination many

astrologers are concerned that its scope is reduced

and wonder if it still has any part to play in the

world.

In this chapter we will discuss two matters:

first, how the astrological judgment can have purchase

in the world, even if it cannot be shown to be

accurate, in the sense of repeatability through

empirical test work; and second, how the sense of the

numinous that often accompanies a dialogue with the

Responsive Cosmos can provide a powerful reason for

the astrological enquiry.

The resonating astrological judgment

Often, if the astrological interpretation does

provide pertinent guidance it will have force. This

cannot be doubted. However, this force cannot be the

result of the guidance being accurate, understood as

requiring repetition through empirical test work,

because this cannot be shown. The guidance received

implies nothing beyond the individual occurrence.

It is possible to say that the guidance received

has force because it is pertinent. If the guidance

received is not pertinent it is unlikely to have

force. Holbraad provides an example, mentioned in

chapter seven, of a woman who is told she has a

problem with her mother, an interpretation which makes

no sense to her. Thus, the guidance is not pertinent

and, in this particular case, the woman found that the

interpretation had no force.

372

It would, however, be logically possible for the

woman to have believed that the guidance had force but

for others to doubt that the guidance is pertinent to

the situation or for others to argue that guidance is

pertinent but the woman to find that it has no force.

She simply rejects it.

What this suggests is that the force of an

astrological interpretation, the force of the guidance

received, will depend on whether that guidance

resonates with the client; whether it makes sense to

the client given what they believe about their own

situation. It does not necessarily depend on some

objective criterion produced by other people, or on

the view of others who know the context. If one finds

that it has no force it has no force. It is entirely

a personal matter and depends on whether it makes

sense to you or whether it resonates with you.

This means that the force of an astrological

interpretation is not a public matter. We have

mentioned that an astrological experience - an

astrological interpretation which does provide

pertinent guidance to the context - has a public

facet, because whether it does provide pertinent

guidance is something all people can comment on, but

it will also have an inner or subjective factor,

because all involved will perceive this experience in

a particular way. This perception will determine the

force the guidance has and this is not dependent on

public scrutiny. It will depend on the individual‟s

own reaction to the astrological experience.

Here we can make comparisons with the religious

experience. The religious experience is inner because

373

it is the experience of something from another realm

which is not subject to public scrutiny. Proudfoot

argues that:

The force of the experience is due to

judgments and assumptions about the relation

of this experience to the rest of my life and

to the world in which I live. Those judgments

and assumptions are constitutive of the

experience (1985: 214).

The judgments and assumptions are constitutive of

the experience because one must believe in the

possibility of having, say, a mystical experience in

order to describe the experience one has as mystical.

How one reacts to an astrological experience is an

inner reaction to that public experience. What this

means is that we cannot use examples of public

astrological experiences to pre-determine how one will

react to them. If one does not accept the efficacy of

astrology one is unlikely to be impressed by an

example of a public astrological experience and is

likely to look for an alternative explanation or ask

for repetition. If one does accept the efficacy of

astrology, or the possibility of a non-human agency,

or of a spiritual dimension to the world, one might

find that it has considerable force. Indeed, we can

go further: if one wants there to be a world in which

there is a place for astrology, or a place for the

spirit, one may find a successful astrological

interpretation forceful.

374

This means that the force of an astrological

interpretation cannot be used to argue for the

existence of the Responsive Cosmos. The force of an

astrological experience depends on the individual

response to that experience which is a personal

matter. Therefore, it will not depend on a

verification test but equally it will not depend on

some other public criterion, but this does not make

it, potentially, any less forceful. Astrology,

therefore, does not lose force by being removed from

the realm of science and being put in the field of

divination.

Briefly, let us consider our example chart.

Asking, “Is there a house for me in the Lake

District?” is not a question to be taken literally.

Taken literally the answer is yes; there are always

houses available in the Lake District. It was a

spiritual or “why” question, in which what was meant

is, “Does a house exist in the Lake District which

will nourish me, a house in which I will feel at one

with the world?” What engages the client is not a

representation of a house which one finds nourishing -

that is impossible because the house has not been

found at the time of asking - but an interpretation

which makes sense to the client, which resonates. In

this case, it resonated because the interpretation

suggested appeared to dovetail with the cosmos as a

whole. For this to happen, however, the client has to

have a view of the world in which it is possible for

her concerns to dovetail with the wider cosmos. If

she did not have such a belief the guidance would not

have resonated in the same way.

375

The sense of numinous in astrology

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos proposes that

an astrological interpretation involves a dialogue

with an agency from an alternative realm. On occasion

during the astrological process those involved have a

sense of the numinous. Proudfoot suggests that Otto's

term numinous is a placeholder designed on the one

hand to be indefinable and on the other "to convey a

sense of the mystery that characterises religious

experience" (ibid: 132-3). It is useful to use the

concept in this way when discussing this sense of the

numinous that those involved in an astrological

interpretation often experience. This is because

there is no one way that this sense is experienced.

It might range from excitement at one end, when the

astrology comes together, to a something more akin to

being awestruck when the significance found in the

astrological interpretation cannot be causal, cannot

be traced back to a particular moment of time, and so

crosses the causal-temporal line, shocking the

participants because it is so unexpected and directly

challenging to their own world view.129 In between we

have, perhaps, the more common experience of the

astrologer “when everything comes together for both

astrologer and client – soul, spirit and body resonate

to something numinous” (Costello 2003: 11).

This experience is inner or subjective; there is

nothing public about it and cannot be confirmed or

129

This has been described as the Judder Effect by Pat Blackett and others from the Company of

Astrologers.

376

denied by others. It would be possible, for example,

to produce a psychological explanation about what was

going on, although, as Proudfoot says, if one's

beliefs form a constituent part of the experience then

to re-describe in a way that excludes those beliefs

will "misidentify the experience" (1985: 196). This,

however, as Proudfoot goes on to say, does not mean

that one cannot provide an explanation in terms of the

non-transcendent. It is only that those who have a

transcendent experience will often find that those

explanations lack force; if they believe in the

transcendent then they will look for explanations

which include the transcendent because those

experiences confirm their beliefs.

This cannot be used to argue for the existence of

the Responsive Cosmos or a transcendent realm because

it assumes what it purports to show. It is worth

pointing out again that our arguments in the support

of the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos relied on

the public astrological experience. What we are

discussing here is the emotion, sense, or feeling

which accompanies that public experience.

Thus, we can make no claims at all about the

Responsive Cosmos, or some transcendent realm, as a

result of the emotions which accompany the public

experience. What we can say is that the sense of the

numinous is a result of the astrological process,

which is an interaction between the astrologer and the

Responsive Cosmos. As Fuller puts it in his

introduction to the collection of Oakeshott‟s essays

in Religion, Politics and the Moral Life, “The

experience of the transcendence is an encounter

377

through sensibility and insight that occurs in the

midst of the ordinariness of our diurnal context”

(Oakeshott 1993: 6).

In other words we cannot claim more than our

normal human sensibilities but we can claim that we

have a dialogue with the Responsive Cosmos. We cannot

prove that we have such dialogue but the argument is

not circular because it relies on the public

astrological experience. It is, therefore, legitimate

for us to make this claim when we see chart and

context come together in a way that allows relevant

guidance to be provided. We can also say that when

this occurs there is an interaction between our realm

and what we believe is the transcendent realm which

may result in a sense of the numinous, which may be

experienced in one of many different ways.

The way the individual experiences the numinous

will depend on the particular circumstances, but could

be one or more of the following: one might experience

a feeling of shock that the interpretation crosses

one's causal-temporal view of the world; one might

feel a sense of liberation because one is able to view

the matter being considered in an entirely new light;

one might feel a sense of comfort because one sees

one‟s own particular issue being taken up by the wider

cosmos, giving one a sense of participating in an

alternative order, or of being part of a greater

whole; it might simply be no more than the excitement

of seeing the astrology work in practice; and it

might, and this might be the case for someone who

lives in a country where divination is accepted, be no

more than what occurs so often in life that it has

378

become part of one‟s experience of living and does not

require special comment. Indeed, it might be any

number of responses.

It is convenient for us to use the numinous as a

place holder to stand for all these different possible

ways of experiencing; what we are assuming is our

interaction with a transcendent reality. What we

cannot say, with any certainty, is what that reality

consists of, or that there is one particular way in

which we do respond to it, or should respond to it.

But that this response is important seems clear,

because it reaffirms our belief that there is an

alternative reality. This confirms the point that

Proudfoot makes: that the importance of a religious

experience is that it reconfirms our belief in the

religious. It is also the point Holbraad makes when

he argues that divination provides “the principal

means by which worshippers can gauge the will of the

santos” (2008), while Hyde claims that, through the

use of symbol, one “is connected to something beyond”

oneself (1992: 77). However, we do not even have to

go this far because, as Bird says, “To accept the

existence of such a world and work consciously within

it are sufficient conditions for its manifestation”

(2004: 142).

This is why the sense of the numinous is

important. If the astrological process allows us to

engage in a dialogue with what we believe is a

transcendent reality in a way that is relevant to our

lives on Earth, then this is a powerful reason for

engaging in the astrological process. This sense of

the numinous will be important to the individual in

379

its own right and will reaffirm one's belief in a

transcendent reality. That there is something

important about the process of astrology over and

above any information derived from it is confirmed by

Bird who argues “that astrologers rank the doing of

astrology above the knowledge derived thereby” (2006:

94) and Curry who argues that the primary purpose of

astrology is not to predict the future but to affirm

citizenship in a living world (Willis and Curry: 110).

Thus, the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos can

provide a compelling reason to engage in the practice

of astrology. Indeed, anyone interested in astrology

as a practice, whether scholar, critic, layperson, or

astrologer, should consider why it is that astrologers

still practice despite the lack of empirical evidence.

This lack of empirical evidence is well known even if

the consequences are not fully appreciated. That

astrologers actually practice astrology because they

believe that through the process they engage in a

conversation with another realm – whether neo-Platonic

or not – is a possibility which should be taken into

consideration.

Our example horoscope again.

By way of conclusion we can, perhaps, illustrate the

points made in this chapter by referring again to our

example horoscope. The question was “Is there a house

for me in the Lake District?” A question which seems

to require a simple yes/no answer.

The astrologer makes an interpretation: the

first part of that interpretation, with the

380

application of the Moon to Mercury, the significator

of the enquirer, and Jupiter, ruler of the fourth

house of property, indicates a simple yes; the second

part of the interpretation, which involved Jupiter, as

a sense of freedom, and the movement of Mercury, the

significator of the inquirer, led to advice on how the

enquirer should behave. The inquirer should wait for

Mercury, about to go retrograde, to go direct again,

before looking in earnest, and should not give up, or

be despondent, but should be patient, because “yes

there is a house for you in the Lake District”, and it

will be found in just under eight weeks‟ time.

As mentioned, the force of this interpretation

had little to do with the „yes‟ answer because there

will always be a house in the Lake District if you

look for long enough. No one with enough money is

homeless for long. A „yes‟ answer, even if it had the

support of repeatability, could be an uninspiring

answer. This answer, however, resonated with the

querent. It resonated because her needs appeared to

dovetail with the sign provided by the Responsive

Cosmos, and made sense with her own world view that

action which does dovetail with the cosmos is

appropriate action to take. The querent had the

choice of accepting the interpretation or rejecting

it. She chose to accept it because it resonated and

made sense to her, she acted on the advice given –

which was what to do in this particular situation -

and waited before continuing the search for the house.

In the broadest sense this action was moral because,

at the very least, patience and perseverance (which

are moral qualities) are involved.

381

The dovetailing of one‟s life with the sign

provided by the Responsive Cosmos, with some entity

much larger than oneself, will be experienced in

different ways by different people, but, in this

particular case, was experienced as a sense of peace,

a sense that this is the right thing to be doing, and

trust that events will work out. This is a very

powerful emotion. It is a sense of the transcendent

that will be important to those who experience. That

an astrological enquiry can lead to this is a powerful

reason for making one.

382

Conclusion

We have argued that it is a mistake to assume that

astrology is a scientific discipline with a

methodology which conforms to the empirical sciences.

This is something it can never be because astrological

symbols are multivalent, while its techniques are

varied and its interpretations require judgments. To

attempt to make astrology a science would be to

„reform‟ it into something which is not. This could

only be countenanced if there was empirical evidence

to support particular astrological techniques or

particular meanings for astrological symbols. If such

evidence existed it might justify the creation of a

scientific astrology but that would be very different

to extant astrological practice which is judicial.

However, such evidence does not exist and there is no

justification for claiming that astrology is or should

be a science and it is a mistake to attempt to

understand it as one. Instead, astrology is best

understood as a form of divination in which there is

no necessary correlation between the position of the

planets and events on Earth.

Whether understood as a form of divination or not

astrologers and those involved in the astrological

process often experience astrology “working”. These

experiences are not denied, although how they should

be accounted for is disputed. We have put forward the

hypothesis that the astrological process involves a

responsive cosmos which brings together the

astrological configuration and context in a way which

allows the astrologer to provide relevant guidance to

383

that context. The Responsive Cosmos is a label to

cover the factors which are necessary for our

hypothesis: first, that it is a non-human agency;

second, that it is essentially beneficent; third, that

it will respond to enquiries and will provide signs

which can be read; and fourth, that these signs and

responses are not guaranteed. Other than those four

characteristics the Responsive Cosmos is a place

holder for any other characteristics the non-human

agency might have.

We have argued that the Responsive Cosmos

provides a better explanation for, and account of, the

experience of astrology “working” than the main

alternative hypothesis of human judgment errors. By

astrology “working” what astrologers mean is that they

have used an astrological configuration and the rules

of astrology to provide pertinent guidance to that

matter being considered. Human judgment errors, which

fall into a different category, cannot account for

this understanding of astrology “working”. Instead,

the proponents of the theory define astrology

“working” as astrological “effects” on Earth shown to

exist through empirical test-work. However, in trying

to obtain that empirical evidence they would have to

exclude most if not all judicial astrology which

relies on context. Thus, it attempts to account for

the experience of astrology “working” by defining that

working as something else.

The additional argument that astrology “working”

can be explained through coincidence, the flexible

nature of astrological techniques and the multivalent

nature of astrological symbols, has no impact on the

384

actual experience of astrology working, but is an

attempt to argue that the astrological experience is

an inner experience which calls for no hypothesis at

all. However, most astrological interpretations

include both private and public matters and most

facets of the interpretation are subject to public

scrutiny. Coincidence, the flexible nature of

astrological symbols and the multivalent nature of

astrological symbols, will not remove the possibility

of public scrutiny because in many cases the

astrological experience will be public. If it is

public then a hypothesis accounting for it is required

and the Responsive Cosmos, currently, is the best

hypothesis proposed.

Indeed, all existing theories of the practice of

astrology, if they are to succeed in elucidating

astrological practice require the involvement of the

Responsive Cosmos. They require its involvement

because in the absence of empirical evidence they must

explain why an astrological configuration is relevant

for the matter being considered. However, the

involvement of the Responsive Cosmos is all that they

require. The neo-Platonic models of astrology all

assume a neo-Platonic order in addition to the

Responsive Cosmos but there is no need to make this

extra assumption, if the aim is to account for

astrological practice. Further, given that there is

nothing in astrological practice which justifies this

extra assumption, one is left concluding that the

assumption is made for non-astrological reasons.

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos means

that the astrological enquiry is essentially moral

385

because another entity is involved in the process

which necessarily starts a moral process. This means

that the astrological enquiry is not aiming at getting

things right in a way that can be confirmed by a

verification process but in obtaining guidance from

the Responsive Cosmos. Indeed, the assumption of the

involvement of the Responsive Cosmos and actual

astrological methodology are only coherent if what

astrology is aiming at – the truth of astrology – is

assumed in advance. What astrology is aiming at can

best be understood as a form of revelation, the value

of which is assumed in advance and is not subject to

further tests. This is an important point for all

interested in the divinatory process to understand

because it is sometimes assumed that divinatory

statements are justified through a further test to

determine whether they are right or wrong. This,

however, is a mistake. Divinatory statements are

assumed to be true in advance, which is why divinatory

enquiries are made, and the equivocal statement of the

diviner is not an attempt to avoid a verification test

but an attempt to find the necessary truth of a

divinatory statement. If this is understood then much

which may be unclear about the divinatory statement

falls into place.

The hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos solves

many of the theoretical problems astrology is thought

to have. It solves the problem of the lack of

empirical evidence and apparently contradictory

techniques because the Responsive Cosmos does not

conform to empirical rules, and will respond to the

individual astrologer and the individual techniques of

386

that astrologer. However, the reflexive nature of the

Responsive Cosmos creates additional problems. Some

of these problems are particular to astrologers but

two are of concern to everyone. They are that

astrology has no criteria with which to make

criticisms of astrological interpretations which may

imply that all astrological interpretations are of

equal value, and that astrology does not add to human

knowledge. However, both criticisms are unfounded.

It is possible to criticise astrological

interpretations from within the discipline of

astrology, using the techniques and practices of

astrology to do so. Equally, astrology will only fail

to add to human knowledge if one understands knowledge

to consist of matters which have been confirmed

through empirical test work or logical analysis. If

one accepts that there are a variety of human

experiences all of which tell us something about the

world, and if knowledge is understood in this light,

then there are a variety of different types of

knowledge. The variety of knowledge that astrological

guidance bests fits is practical wisdom.

Thus, the hypothesis of the Responsive Cosmos

provides the bare minimum necessary for astrological

divination to take place. Understood in this way the

apparent contradictions and inconsistencies of

astrology disappear, astrological practice and

astrological experiences can be accounted for and

those writing about astrology, or commenting on it,

are in a position to stop misrepresenting it for

something which it is not and cannot be.

387

Appendix

388

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